The Princely Slave
by LazurusRising238
Summary: Arthur has been missing for eight months, and only his servant hasn't given up on the chance of finding him alive. But when Merlin finally gets a lead, he realises he might already be to late to save his friend.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin. All rights belong to the BBC.**

**There is a reason for the rating on this, you have been warned. Violence, sexual abuse, torture... It's dark. If you think that will disturb you, please, do not read.**

It was extremely late by the time an exhausted Merlin stumbled into the physician's chambers. His face was drawn and pinched, huge dark circles shadowed his eyes. What little weight he had to lose was gone, and his whole posture seemed to scream defeat. It was more than apparent the events of the last eight months had caught up with him, his legs working on automatic as he pushed open the door and all but collapsed onto a stool.

How could it have been eight months already? How could Arthur have been gone for eight months? One glance over at his equally exhausted guardian, and Merlin could see the same tiredness reflected in Gaius' eyes. If he thought he was struggling to keep going, it must be nothing compared to the physician. Looking at him in the dim candle light, Merlin couldn't help but think of how old Gaius looked.

"I'll set out again at first light." He mumbled, dropping his head onto his folded arms and leaning on the table. Despite his mind yelling at him to get straight back out there, his body was screaming at him to rest. He knew he shouldn't have been using magic to the extent he had, not with how tired he was. But then again, he hadn't exactly meant to be discovered in the bandits' camp either, and it had been his only option.

"Merlin, when are you going to stop?"

"When I've found him." Pain immediately flitted over Gaius' face. He had heard those words before. Coming from a man who was nothing more than a broken shell these days. If they had thought Morgana's disappearance had driven the King to extremities, it was nothing compared to how broken he now was that his son had vanished. Of course, it didn't help that Morgana's betrayal had still been more than fresh in his mind when Arthur hadn't returned from a hunting trip. It was only because Merlin had been sick with the flu that he hadn't been out there with his master as normal; something Gaius knew his young ward was still beating himself up about. But both physician and prince had strictly forbidden him to even put so much as a toe on the floor.

But despite still being sick, Merlin had been one of the first out into the forest the next day when it was clear something had happened to the prince. According to what Lancelot had said, he had left the group behind as he had cantered into the woods, somehow knowing precisely where he needed to go. Gaius hadn't asked how, and Lancelot hadn't offered. They both knew. It had meant Merlin was the first to find what was left of Arthur's camp, his horse lying slaughtered over to one side. Even Gwaine had been pale and shaky when they had returned. There had been no sign of Arthur, and as a few days passed, it was clear this was no ransom. The prince had simply vanished.

Every day Merlin scoured the countryside looking for his master. Initially, groups of people – sometimes the Knights, sometimes mere commoners – had joined him, determined to find and bring home the much loved prince. But eventually, as the King slowly withdrew into himself more and more, Leon had been forced to make some rational decisions. The newly appointed Knights still took it in turns to accompany their friend, but they knew they were needed here. Word had spread of Arthur's disappearance and Uther's consequent _lack_ of ruling, and it had come as no surprise when the attacks had started to flood in. The Knights were needed to do what they were supposed to do – defend the realm.

Still Merlin hadn't given up. His best friend was out there somewhere, he knew it. Despite the sympathetic looks he received from nearly everyone when he returned to Camelot, exhausted and spent, but alone, he would not give up. He knew that everyone believed Arthur to be dead, but the warlock knew that was not the case. He didn't know whether it was his magic, or the fact that Arthur was his destiny. All he knew was that the prince was still alive, and Merlin was not going to be giving up until he had found the man and brought him home. They had spent a year looking for Morgana when she had vanished. What was eight months in comparison?

"Merlin, you are going to kill yourself if you carry on like this." Despite the bluntness of his words, Gaius' tone was soft and gentle as he examined his ward with critical eyes. He had already had Gwaine turn up and demand answers for when Merlin was going to see sense with his never-ending desire to find Arthur, but the physician hadn't been able to give him any. All he could do was make sure he was waiting for the boy every time he returned, and try and mend some of the hurts he had received on his latest search. But what worried him more was the injuries he couldn't see. Every time Merlin returned alone, it was as if a little more of him had died.

"He's alive, Gaius, I know he is. I can't give up on him now."

"Don't you think he would want you to live your own life?"

"And abandon him?" Merlin's tone was harsh and dangerous, and for a moment, Gaius got a glimpse at what the numerous groups of bandits Merlin had encountered must have seen. He knew it was no coincidence that the number of attacks had dropped over the last few months. After all, Merlin had to start each search somewhere, and he wanted answers. With magic at his disposal and desperation running through his mind, it wasn't often he didn't get what he wanted. But none of them had the answers he was looking for. None of them were responsible for the prince's disappearance. In a way, Gaius dreaded the day Merlin found who was. If his magic was this lethal now, he didn't want to know what the once innocent boy would become when he found out who had taken his friend.

Merlin caught sight of the hurt and reproachful look on Gaius' face and suddenly realised what had come out of his mouth. He sighed heavily, sitting up a little and running his hand through his hair. For a brief moment, he shut his eyes, trying to regain control of himself. He was just so exhausted.

"I'm sorry, Gaius. I just...I can't leave him. Not now. Not after everything." Gaius looked at the young man for a long moment, sorrow in his eyes. He knew there was nothing he could say that was going to make Merlin stay in Camelot longer than he absolutely had to.

"I saw Gwen earlier." He took another stab at conversation, knowing that he couldn't let Merlin stay in the isolation he put himself in every time he left Camelot. "With Lancelot."

"Good." Merlin muttered, the slightest smile flickering momentarily onto his lips. It was gone so quickly that Gaius wasn't even sure whether he had seen it there. "She deserves to be happy. First Morgana and now Arthur? She needs someone she can rely on."

"And when Arthur returns..?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." Merlin's tone was one that definitely put an end to the conversation, and Gaius couldn't help but wonder when the man who was like a son to him had suddenly become so certain, his voice echoing a new found authority. Whatever the end result of this was going to be, Merlin was not the same person as when Arthur had gone missing. For a long moment, silence reigned over the once carefree chambers. It was heavy and oppressing, and Gaius knew it was just getting worse each time Merlin returned. He sighed, standing up as he did so.

"I need to take the King a new draught. Get some sleep, Merlin." Merlin nodded, shutting his eyes to hide the tears pricking in the corners of his vision. How could he have come back empty handed once again? As Gaius began bustling around his chambers, Merlin watched him silently, feeling a wave of love for the old man. He would make it up to the physician one day, he swore to himself. But right now, Gaius was right. He needed sleep.

Dragging his feet up the stairs, Merlin crashed down onto his bed fully clothed. Within seconds, his exhausted mind had given into the welcoming pull of sleep.

_Shackles bit into his wrists from where he was suspended from the ceiling. How long had he been here for now? Three days? Four? They had moved him not that long ago, but Arthur was finding it harder and harder to keep track of the days. He knew that he had been gone for a long time now. No doubt everyone had given up on him now, presumed him for dead. To be honest, Arthur wasn't sure whether he had given up on himself now. All that kept him sane was knowing that, despite the condition he was in, they still hadn't got what they wanted. They had certainly broken him, Arthur didn't so much as think about resisting any more. But somehow, even to this day, he had still managed to keep Camelot's closely guarded secrets just that, secret._

_The burn on his shoulder pulsed and throbbed with every heartbeat, and from what their goading had implied, it would do forever. It would never fade, never ease. Instead just leaving the once confident prince branded a slave. He could feel it just as clearly as when they had first done it, and judging by the strange language that had poured from their mouths as one of the men had pressed the burning iron onto the previously undamaged skin, he knew that magic was involved somehow._

_He wished he could at least reach the floor, let his feet take some of the weight his shoulders were screaming about. It would have been worse if they had done this from the beginning, because compared to then, Arthur was at least half of his previous size. He was bare-chested, the signs of abuse littered all over him. But even his breeches were practically hanging off him now, the rope being used to hold them on his waist getting tighter with each passing day. His face showed the signs of the torment that had been thrown on him since the first day of his capture, but very little could be seen of it. The room was too dark. So dark, in fact, Arthur couldn't even see his feet where they were dangling uselessly below him. One of his knees was swollen, and he knew that at least three toes on his left foot must be broken._

_He heard the hiss in the air the second before he felt it. Immediately, his teeth gritted as he refused to make a sound. How long had it been since he had uttered any noise? Whether it was hurling abuse at his enemies or even a cry of pain as they continued to beat him, Arthur had not made a sound for what he reckoned he was at least two months now. He just had to keep focusing on that, not letting the slightest whimper cross his lips as the whip slashed across his exposed back, and it kept him sane._

_He could feel the blood running down his back as he was flogged for at least the second time in the time he had been missing. They had obviously decided his previous wounds had closed up enough for them to risk it without killing him. That was something Arthur had noticed. No matter what they did, they were careful that he remained alive. To start with, Arthur couldn't work it out. But then he had realised it was never the same person beating him each day, and eventually, he had come to recognise some of them. Local bandits, outcast sorcerers, even mercenaries. All of those who had anything against Camelot had come to vent out their frustrations on the captured prince, and by the looks of it, a lot of gold was being exchanged in the process._

_Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, the whip stopped. There was the sound of light footsteps, a door opening, and then silence again. Arthur let his head hang, breathing erratically as he tried to control the pain lancing through him, his every nerve making it feel like he was on fire. Eventually he managed to control his frantic breathing and attempted to regain control of himself._

_It was getting harder and harder though. The room was in complete darkness, and not a word had been spoken to him in three days. He knew it was magic being used to keep him alive, he could feel it spreading out from the burn. How else would he still be conscious after three days without food, water or sleep? The only contact he had was when someone decided to take out their anger on him. But they always used equipment of some sort, never once letting him feel human flesh. But they did it all in the darkness, never speaking a word._

Merlin woke with a gasp, a few hot tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes and rolling down his cheeks as he swung his legs out of bed. His back was tingling slightly, and he knew it was nothing to do with his constant excursions. When the dreams had started, he wasn't so sure. He still didn't know if they were just that, his own imagination becoming his own worst enemy as he slept, taunting him with what could possibly be happening to the prince whilst Merlin was sleeping. But there was something so vivid about them, Merlin couldn't help but think it was more than that, a sign of his link with the prince. He hoped not, for it meant he knew what Arthur was going through, and no one deserved that sort of pain.

Shakily standing up, Merlin yanked his shirt over his head, determined to push the dream from his mind. He threw the discarded shirt onto the floor before shrugging on a new one, making his way towards the door. He knew by the time he returned again, it would be clean and mended. He felt exceptionally guilty about the way he had treated his friends, and couldn't even express his gratitude towards them for putting up with him. They had stuck by him as he jeopardised not only his life, but theirs as well through his constant refusal to give up the search.

As the dream sprung back into his head, Merlin knew why he couldn't give up. If there was the slightest chance that the dreams were a reflection of what was happening to Arthur, he couldn't abandon him to it. He knew the prince would have never given up on anyone else, it was why they had spent an entire year looking for Morgana. Even thinking of her made Merlin feel sad. How had so much gone wrong in such a short space of time?

Making his way down the stairs, Merlin found Gaius waiting for him, breakfast on the table and the warlock's bag packed once again. Touched more than words, Merlin stopped still.

"Gaius, I..."

"You always forget something, Merlin, I had to make sure it wasn't food this time. Now come on, your porridge is getting cold." Lowering himself gingerly into the stool, Merlin began eating, not being sure what there was to say. Gaius had put up with him more than anyone, being on the receiving end of an angry outburst when Merlin considered how futile his quest was. Yet the physician never told him not to go, never said he was being foolish.

"How's the King?" Merlin eventually muttered around a mouthful. A genuine smile split his face when Gaius tutted at him in disapproval. For the first time, Merlin felt genuine sympathy for the man. He knew what the loss was doing to the once powerful monarch.

"He's sleeping again." Gaius responded dismissively, knowing that wasn't what Merlin meant. Merlin merely nodded, clearly understanding that Gaius was going to go no further than that. He finished his breakfast in silence, and stood up.

A look passed between physician and ward. Nothing was said, for words were not needed. They had said it all too many times before. As Merlin shouldered his bag, Gaius sighed.

"Be safe, my boy."

"Always," Merlin responded with a cheeky grin, and suddenly, the old Merlin was back for a split second. But then the smile faded and the haunted youth instead took back over. Gaius nodded and turned to his preparations. He couldn't face watching Merlin walk out of the door once more, knowing that he would be even more broken up the next time he returned. Despite not giving up, Gaius was a realist. Each day that passed he knew there was even less chance of finding Arthur alive.

There were very few people about as Merlin made his way to the stables. The stable master smiled sadly at him, but said not a word as he handed over a fresh mount. Merlin would want to cover a lot of ground, and the horse he had returned on the night before was certainly not up to it. The warlock was having to take a new one out each time, although everyone in the stables remarked on the fact that whilst they were tired, they were never exhausted. Despite his frantic searching, Merlin was making sure that whichever animal was bearing him at the time had the chance to recover from the ordeal. He could have so easily pushed them too far each time.

"Take care of her," the man said gruffly, opening the gate to let Merlin out. Merlin nodded his understanding as he swung himself into the saddle. He had just twisted around to make sure his bag was secure when something stopped him. Standing at the top of the steps, Uther Pendragon was watching him. Merlin swallowed slightly at the state of the king. He looked as exhausted as Merlin felt.

But as Merlin watched, he dipped his head in acknowledgement. Smiling, Merlin nodded back, taking the reins and trotting out of the gate. At least someone knew that he wasn't going to give up, and nor would Uther try and tell him too. If they were the only two left in the Kingdom who wouldn't give up on Arthur, then so be it. It was the only thing they had in common.

Merlin picked up speed as he left the city behind, breathing out and letting a spark of magic chose the direction for him today. He didn't know what it did, but without fail it led him to someone.

"Hang on, Arthur, I'm coming." His whisper was heard by no one but the horse as Merlin broke into a canter.

But far away, barely conscious, a pair of blue eyes blinked wearily, wondering whether he was imaging the voice. Even if he was, he was clinging onto the idea that someone was still looking for him.


	2. Chapter 2

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_Arthur was sitting on the floor, slumped against a cold, damp wall. Thick leather restraints encircled his wrists, digging into the same sores that the chains had left. A cord attached his hands to the wall just above his head, leaving him with no movement. Not that they seemed to accept that, tying his bare feet together as well, the knots cruelly tight._

_He rested his head back on the wall, trying to give it some sort of leeway to arch his back away. That was the only way he could tell it was a few days later, the amount his back had healed. No one else had entered the room since the flogging until they were dragging him from it. At first, the room had felt unbearably cold, but after a while, Arthur was more than glad they had left him shirtless. The wounds across his back stung like crazy, every movement opening one up slightly and causing a hot trickle of blood to escape down his back._

_It didn't help that he was shivering violently, harsh coughs being forced from his chest at almost regular intervals. He had hated the fact that it meant he had made a noise, something that he had sworn he would not do after they had torn the first – and last – scream from him. But he had no choice in the matter, the harsh, almost rattling noise being torn from him as his body curled in on itself, trying to preserve what little warmth he had left. Once again, he was aware that the only thing keeping him alive was the burn on his shoulder. Every time consciousness was escaping him, it pulsed. Arthur could feel the magic being forced through his veins, healing him just enough that it kept him going for them to have another go. The prince had felt magic before, but nothing had felt this evil. There was no other word for it, he felt like he was suffocating every time he felt it move around his body. He would have done anything to be able to stop it, to be able to give into the darkness just once, a chance to escape the torment._

_But they would allow him no such luxury. For eight months, Arthur had been conscious for every second of it. They wouldn't even allow him the luxury of sleep. He partly wondered why they even bothered to restrain him anymore, it's not like he would have the strength to go anywhere had they opened all the doors and giving him a free ticket out. It seemed to be something about the money they were receiving, people were led to believe the prince was still struggling against his captors, making their own delivery of punishment even more satisfactory to their sadistic pleasures._

_Arthur had just managed to find a position that gave him a small amount of relief when the small door inset in the far wall of his cell burst open. Momentarily, Arthur had to turn away, the bright candle flickering in the man's hands burning into the back of his eyes and making him see dark spots as they littered his vision. He didn't have long to dwell on it, before heavy footfalls sounded across the room and a strong hand grasped his chin, turning his head towards the newcomer._

_"He's looking a bit sickly." A voice commented lightly as the hand let go. Immediately, Arthur turned his head away again, drawing his knees closer into his chest the best he could with bound feet._

_"He'll live. We've seen to that. You mentioned gold?"_

_"Don't worry, you'll get your payment, providing of course, you follow my instructions. I have to know the exact results." Arthur tensed, wondering what they had planned for him this time. They had made sure he wouldn't succumb to his injuries, there had to be a reason why. He just refused to believe the whole thing was about gold. Were people really capable of such sadism? As the rough hand probed one of the wounds on his back, Arthur stiffened even further, making sure no sound escaped him. He had just answered his own question._

_"Why don't you stay with us for a few days? That way you can begin the trial yourself, and we can see the exact results?" Arthur knew the voice of the man who was speaking, it was often the one who introduced newcomers to their "prize". He certainly was a smooth talker, and the prince could hear the other man agree. He still refused to look at them._

_He thought they would leave now that an agreement had been made. But instead, he felt the cold steel of a blade being placed on the arm being suspended closest to the man. Arthur didn't even flinch as the metal bit into the flesh, causing a crimson trickle to run down his arm. He still refused to look even as the man grasped his arm in a tight grip just below the wound, bending his arm around as much as possible. Arthur had no idea what he was doing until he felt a cold substance being poured over the wound._

_It took every ounce of self control for him not to cry out, not to _scream_ in sheer agony as he felt something coursing through his body. He was breathing heavily, his eyes rolling as sweat immediately broke out across his forehead, his chest heaving._

_"Interesting. The anti-dote has to be administered within twelve hours after the poison, or he will die, no matter what magic you have used on him."_

_"Very well. It will be done."_

_As the men finally left, Arthur leant his head shakily back on the wall, hot tears slipping down his cheeks at the sheer pain of it all. He would do anything for it to stop. But somewhere along the way, it was as if his voice had given up. Despite constantly refusing to say anything and feeling like he had to fight against that sensation every time they tried mocking him, his voice no longer seemed to be working. It had taken his oath to himself and made it a reality. Even if he wanted to beg them to kill him, to make it stop, Arthur no longer physically could._

_In a way, it was a blessing, stopped them from hearing precisely what they had wanted him to say for the last eight months. But at the same time, Arthur couldn't take any more._

_Limbs trembling from being held in such an unnatural position for so long, Arthur kept his body twisted to make sure his back didn't touch the wall as he leant into it even more, determined to keep himself vaguely upright._

"Arthur!" Merlin sat bolt upright with a cry, sweat pouring from him as he calmed his erratically beating heart. After a few moments, he finally managed to gain some sort of control over himself and stood up. The fire had died down during the night, and with a short command, Merlin soon had it roaring into life again. Crouching down, he let his hands hover over it, draining in the warmth the flickering flames offered.

The dreams were getting worse. Not only physically, but the Arthur he was seeing had all but given up, accepted his fate. If that was true, Merlin didn't know what he was going to do when he found his prince. How could someone be fixed when they had gone through so much, for so long? As much as he knew Gaius was good, Merlin had a sinking feeling it was not going to be enough.

The warlock got no more sleep that night. He had been riding hard for three days, most of the nights as well. He only stopped long enough to make sure the horse received adequate rest before pushing on. He had just drawn level to where he had reached last time, and knew that with the dawn came a fresh search. There had to be something, anything, that would give him some clue as to the prince's whereabouts. He had tried summoning Kilgarrah at least four times, especially in the first couple of days. But even the Great Dragon had been unable to locate Arthur for him. It was as if the prince was being shielded from them, and Merlin knew the only way that could have been done was by magic. Thinking back on the dream, he shuddered, drawing in his knees to his chest. If this search showed nothing, he would call on the dragon again. If nothing else, he needed to widen his search, and the horses couldn't get him there quick enough. But when a desperate Merlin had called him last time, Kilgarrah had made it quite clear that _he_ would call the warlock if he found anything, but that Merlin was just wasting his time and energy summoning the dragon the way he had been.

As soon as dawn had broken, Merlin had saddled up, preparing to spend the day riding. He was using magical far more openly now than he had ever done before, knowing that he was far beyond the reach of Camelot's borders. Besides, it wasn't as if there was anyone around to see him, for the woods he was travelling through was dark and gloomy, his senses on full alert as he let the horse pick her way through the twisting undergrowth. He had no natural instinct when it came to terrain like this, and trusted the horse far more than he trusted his own judgement.

He travelled for two more days, barely stopping. Each time he made a brief camp, he refused to sleep. He couldn't face dreaming about what could possibly be happening to Arthur. In some ways, he felt bad about it. It was his way of keeping an eye on the prince despite the fact there was nothing he could do to help, and yet he couldn't even take that. How on earth was Arthur managing to hold on? Merlin had resigned himself to the fact that the dreams were reality. He needed something to ground him, to make him carry on searching, and the injuries he saw on the figure in his dreams seemed consistent each night. In Merlin's mind, he had put enough trust in their destiny to believe the images were real.

But that just made it all the more painful to witness them. As he sat crouched in front of the fire, eyes gazing into the hypnotising flames whilst his magic kept watch, Merlin sighed heavily. He was thinking about Arthur so hard it was as if the prince's face was staring back at him out of the fire.

"_Reperio meus fatum," _he muttered quietly, feeling drained as a rush of magic shot out of him into the surrounding area. It was a spell he had used many times over the last few months, a tracking beam of some sort, searching for Arthur. But although he could send it further away than when he had first let the magic fly, he could only sustain it for a short amount of time, something not helped by his exhaustion. Whilst it could search the area in the immediate vicinity, it couldn't travel much further out in order to be any real use. Merlin had got into the habit of releasing the spell every evening, just in case, whenever he was travelling out from Camelot. The last thing he wanted was for the prince to be close by him, and for him to have never have noticed.

Each time he had sent it out, nothing but negativity had been fed back along the link binding him with his magic. So when he received the slightest flicker of certainty, a type of confidence he had only ever associated with Arthur echoing back into his soul, Merlin leapt to his feet, his heart beating fast. Could it be possible?

After all of these months, despite what he had told everyone else, Merlin himself had been beginning to doubt whether he would ever find Arthur again. The main reason why he had set out day after day was that he couldn't face Camelot without him. Despite their initial loathing of each other, Arthur was the best friend Merlin had never had. Not even Will had been able to touch on the bond he had with the prince, and that was without Arthur knowing what his servant was capable of. When the time was right, Merlin was strangely certain that the future king would accept him.

None of that mattered now though. All that was occupying Merlin's mind was that the magic had found something. Considering how exhausted the warlock was, Merlin knew it wasn't past his luck for it to have found some sort of wild beast that wanted to eat him rather than the prince. But even so, all it took was a flash of his eyes and the camp was packed up, the fire doused.

His mare tossed her head in slight distress at both the use of the magic and the fact they were setting off so soon. Giving her ears a fondle to try and apologise as he swung himself into the saddle, Merlin found his heart was beating fast with anticipation. For the first time in eight months, he had reason to believe that he was nearing the prince, rather than just watching him suffer through dreams.

Giving the horse a gentle nudge, Merlin moved off slowly. He had no desire to rush things now, not when he had the magic to follow. They hadn't been riding for long when they came to a thicket. The magic was leading him through it, but Merlin knew there was no way his mare would be able to get through. Not to mention he didn't want to announce himself in quite that manner. Instead, he slipped down and tethered her loosely to the outskirts. There was plenty of fresh grass nearby, and with a flash of his eyes and a whisper, the ropes extended themselves to make sure she could reach the stream he could hear running nearby. He had no intention of being very long.

Setting out on foot, it took Merlin no time at all until he was well and truly tangled up in the bush. Eventually, he resorted to using magic once again, knowing that if he didn't hurry, his original spell would fade. He hadn't the strength to cast it again without resting, and didn't particularly want to be stuck in the middle of the undergrowth with no direction. He finally managed to tear himself free, and instantly felt the magic spring to his fingers, dancing across electrically as a building loomed into view.

His spell dissipated at that very moment, but Merlin didn't need it to tell him this was the place he had spent eight months looking for. Something in his gut was pulling him towards it, and without wasting another moment, Merlin set off at a run. Only moments later, he skidded to a halt, seeing two men standing outside. One of them was practically juggling magical orbs, the second taking a long swig of something.

They saw – or at least, the sorcerer sensed – him coming, and Merlin immediately froze.

"Have no fear, lad, your magic is safe here." The man almost had a friendly voice, and deciding that might work to his advantage even if inside he was fuming, Merlin approached. He plastered an easy grin on his face, but his eyes were burning dangerously, a hint of gold playing around the edges as he struggled to hold his magic back. He had no idea how strong they were, nor how many sorcerers were around. He couldn't risk it, not if he had indeed got this close to finding Arthur.

"Can we help you, son?" The second man sounded just as pleasant as the first, and without thinking about it, Merlin spoke.

"I'm looking for a prince." He certainly wasn't expecting smiles to light up both of their faces.

"Little young, aren't you? Although I guess if you have magic, that's a good enough reason. Well, you found one. I hope you've got gold though, they don't let anyone have a go if they don't pay." As Merlin's eyes glowed slightly, the man smirked. "No amount of magic will help you, kid, they've got masses of sorcerers working for them. Pay, and they will let you have a go. No questions asked."

"Have you yet?" The second man asked his companion. Judging by the way they still seemed to be a little on edge with each other, Merlin knew they didn't know each other, possibly having only just met. It took all of his self restraint not to fry them on the spot. His dreams suddenly made more sense, and Merlin could feel the bile rising in his throat. How could they treat Arthur like that?

"Had a go? Yeah, couple of times. If it is your first time though, I suggest the whip. You'll have to get in quick, it's a favourite and they won't let it be used too many times, in case he gets used to it. But he's very...responsive to it."

Merlin's hand was alternating between relaxing and clenching even as tears pricked the corners of his eyes. This was proof enough his dreams had been real, for it was only earlier on in the week he had seen Arthur being flogged.

"What about you?" Merlin was struggling to keep control of his breathing at the casual way the second man put across his query.

"I have my own methods." The first responded with an evil smirk, his hand drifting to his crotch and causing the second man to grin.

That was when Merlin promptly threw up.

"Easy, kid. You'll have your revenge soon enough. Stick with me, I'll see you in. In fact, considering the bastards have hurt one so young, I'll pay for your first go. Let all that anger out."

The second man wasn't finished though. "What was it like?"

Merlin found himself crouched on the floor, heaving. But there was nothing left in his stomach. How _could_ they?

"Well, if they didn't have plans to sell him to Acrotus at the end of this week, I'd buy him myself. Could use a silent whore, business trips and all that, you know?"

"Sell?" Merlin gasped. He knew if he gave himself away now, he would never get inside.

"Oh yeah. Acrotus has been trying out something on the prince, and is sure that he can get the information these idiots have failed to get out of him for however many months. Guess they don't care considering the money they've been making. Amazing how many people have a grudge against the Pendragons."

That confirmed it once and for all. Merlin had found Arthur.


	3. Chapter 3

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It took all of Merlin's courage to not bolt as the men led him inside, laughing and joking about what they were planning to do with the prize. Merlin's breath was hitching in his throat erratically, and he just wanted to run and find Arthur. It had been eight months since the prince had disappeared, and Merlin had picked up enough of what was going on around him to know that he would _never_ be able to comprehend what horrors he had been through in that time. There were even more people inside, some looking disgustingly excited, some comparing instruments that Merlin didn't even want to consider their use for.

The first man who had spoken kept his hand lightly on Merlin's shoulder as he steered him through the mass of people. They made it over to one side, and he immediately caught one of the men's attention.

"You really can't get enough, can you, Dunran?" The man was smiling, his hand already outstretched. The man – Dunran - immediately dumped a pile of coins into it, grinning as he did so.

"Uther took my life, my family. I'll never tire of taking his son, literally. Sure you haven't reconsidered?"

"Sorry, mate, Atrocus is most insistent. Have to admit, this poison does work well. He burns up for an hour, then goes all limp for the rest of the day. Amazing the stuff you can do. Who's this, Dunran? Bit young, ain't he?"

Dunran handed over another pile of coins, one that Merlin couldn't help but notice was significantly larger.

"Sorcerer, first time. You got that whip still?" The man sighed, seeming to contemplate what he was doing before reaching behind him. It was only then Merlin noticed the assortment of instruments hanging on the wall behind him and he struggled not to vomit again.

"Only the lighter one, someone else has got the other. And before you argue, no, I'm not getting it back off him, he's a regular. Your boy will just have to make do."

"Much obliged." Dunran nodded, handing Merlin the whip. "Here you are, kid. You'll get your revenge. Now, 'fraid I'm gonna have to leave you here, you'll need to join that lot over there for the first time rules. Come find me afterwards though, eh? I wanna know how it goes."

With those words, he strode off, slapping Merlin heartedly on the shoulder as he did so. The young warlock stood rooted to the spot, almost swaying where he stood. Every conversation he listened to had people talking the same way. There was an excitement in their voices that he had heard around Camelot when there was a big joust or something like that. But Merlin was sickened to his very core about what he knew they really meant. Or more specifically, _who_ they meant. How could one human do that to another? Especially as by the sounds of it, none of them cared that is was Arthur. They just saw the prince as a way of getting back at the King.

"Alright, first timers who are after a bit of revenge, come over here!" Merlin felt like he had no choice but to head that way. It was the only way he was going to find out where Arthur was, for he knew Dunran would immediately spot him if he tried to head over that way. He just hated the feeling of helplessness. After eight months, he had found Arthur. But there was still nothing he could do to get his friend out of this hell.

As he sidled over, eyes darting everywhere as he took on some of the abilities people were showing off, he began to plan. He knew it was not going to be easy getting Arthur out of here, especially if the man couldn't exactly run in the way he used to be able to. There were numerous sorcerers roaming the area, and although Merlin knew he could match them, even outstrip them, in power, he wouldn't be able to take them all, not when he had to watch out for Arthur as well. He bit his lip, eyes and ears (as well as magic) straining as he tried to work out how he was going to do this.

"Okay you lot, listen up!" The man who had summoned them over began talking again, and Merlin found that he was half paying attention. It might give him a clue as to what he should do next. Not to mention he didn't exactly want himself to stand out.

"It's your first time, so there are a few rules. One, don't say a word to him, and definitely do _not_ mention his name. Two, mainly for you sorcerers, you'll have to do it in darkness. Breaks 'em good and proper when they can't see a thing. Three, for those of you wanting a screamer, sorry, wrong place. We haven't got a sound out of him for months, but trust me, he can feel it. Fourth, if you feel magic, don't fret. Just a little incentive to keep him conscious for you, ignore it. He's the only one it hurts, it won't touch you. Five..." The man broke off, a sadistic grin splitting his face all but in half. "Enjoy. The Pendragons have ruined your lives in one way or another. This could be the only chance you have. Do what you want, just no lasting damage."

Merlin backed against the wall as the man strode off. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. His anger was beginning to get the better of him, and he could feel the magic seeping out of him. He had to do something before he completely ruined any plan he was half way through forming. He saw the man who had sold him the whip duck out of sight and disappear into a backroom, and without really thinking what he was doing, Merlin stole across the room, ducking through the doorway after him.

"Hey, you can't..." The end of the man's sentence disappeared as he crumpled, hitting the floor with a thud. Another flash of the warlock's eyes, and he was bound and gagged. Even Merlin couldn't bring himself to consciously kill him. He had to hold onto some part of himself if he was going to get Arthur through this. But it certainly had helped. Merlin both looked and felt far more in control when he left the room. It was time to get his prince back.

His new found confidence didn't last very long. No sooner had he left the room, he caught sight of Dunran. The man was clearly preparing himself for his latest torment, and as Merlin watched, someone seemed to give him some sort of signal and he moved towards a heavy door, lust burning in his eyes as a sadistic grin split over his face.

Merlin was running before he even thought about what he was doing.

* * *

><p>Arthur was hanging from the chains again. They had stripped his breeches from him this time, leaving him completely naked. It wasn't only his hands that were chained; his feet were shackled too, anchoring him to the floor. He tried to control his breathing, refused to let himself think about what was coming.<p>

It had been the same for weeks. They would take him to the room overnight, then leave him to the mercy of whoever was coming during that day after re-chaining him in the empty, dark room. But something had changed over the last few days, ever since that stranger had arrived. Each morning – well, Arthur presumed it was morning, he couldn't be so sure any more – the stranger had walked in with his blade and a strange bottle. Arthur had never gotten a proper look at it, he refused to look at the man. All he knew was that it was the reason why shallow cuts were now littering his torso, and knew that it explained the hour or so he had in absolute agony afterwards. Thankfully, the pain didn't last, but it was like he was losing any grip he still had on sanity as the poison worked its way through his system. Somehow, it was as if it made him feel the torment inflicted on him more during the day, the magic working overtime to keep him conscious. The same man returned that evening when they had finished restraining him back in the room. Another cut and a different liquid later, and the feelings faded, leaving him a trembling wreck on the floor.

The first man of the day had arrived. Arthur had grown used to listening for the slightest sounds, knowing they would keep as quiet as possible. It was the only thing he ever heard, certainly not another human voice. A second small click indicated that the door had been shut, and the slightest trickle of light that had managed to escape into the room was quickly cut out. He listened hard to the footsteps as the figure crossed the room, and inwardly groaned. He knew who this was. It made sense why they had chained his feet now.

There was a brief pause, the room almost seeming to hold its breath before the first blow struck. Arthur had been expecting it however, and as the whip struck him across the back of the knees, he had already clenched his jaw, eyes burning in humiliation. His legs automatically jerked, and the sounds of the chains rattling as he was held in position was the only thing that could be heard throughout the whole of the room as the man continued to bring the thick leather whip across the back of Arthur's legs, never once rising above his waist and crossing over with the occasionally still bleeding wounds across his back.

Arthur found himself counting in his head. That was the only blessing he could find when it came to the regulars, he knew what to expect and how long it was going to last. Not that he let it show. He knew should his tormenters have any idea he almost found relief in the regulars, they would stop them coming, never mind the payment they were receiving for it. As soon as he had reached the twentieth strike, the man could be heard reeling the whip back in, breathing heavily. The sound of footsteps could be heard, and Arthur could just make out his form in the darkness come to stand in front of him before he was sharply backhanded, his head snapping to one side.

And then it was over. The man strode from the room, the slightest trickle of light flickering in momentarily before it was shut off again. Arthur winced when he felt the magical brand flare into life, forcing the magic through his body and reducing the stinging in his legs slightly. Not enough to make him stop feeling it, but enough to clear his head. They wanted him to be able to feel each and every punishment, and that wouldn't happen if the pain from the attack before was still dominating his senses.

As the door opened again, Arthur shut his eyes. He felt hot tears prick at the corner of his vision when he came to recognise these footsteps. He would take the whipping any day over what this man threw at him. He seemed to be worse than the others, and Arthur knew it wasn't getting any easier even if the man did come at least three times a week now. Would he never be satisfied?

He refused to open his eyes even as the man came to a stop in front of him, grabbing his jaw with a strong, calloused hand and tilting his head first to one side, then the other. He said not a word as he continued his inspection, but he finally let go again. If possible, Arthur squeezed his eyes even tighter when he felt the man move around him, a bruising grip on his hips holding him still. Arthur knew what was about to happen, it was what happened every time. But that didn't make the pain and humiliation easier to bear.

Instead of the burning pain he was expecting, Arthur was not prepared for the door to suddenly fly open, the dim light being bright enough to burn him even through closed lids. The hands on his hips disappeared with a curse. It was the first human voice Arthur had heard since the stranger had entered his cell those few days ago.

"Didn't realise you were so impatient, boy." The man's voice was nothing more than a snarl, and Arthur focused on breathing rather than listening to it. Despite the number of times the man had used and violated his body, Arthur could distance himself from it if he didn't know what the man sounded or even looked like. There didn't appear to be any answer, but Arthur could have sworn he heard the faintest whisper. He had taught himself to listen for the faintest sounds, knowing it may be the only way he could get out of here. That had been months ago, but still Arthur could hear even a pin drop.

He felt the man being thrown away from him, the whistle in the air indicating his flight seconds before the sickening thud made Arthur realise he wouldn't have to fear the man that day. There was the sound of uncertain footsteps, but still Arthur couldn't bring himself to open his eyes. The light was too bright.

A gasp from somewhere in front of him caused him to turn his head away, finally letting his eyes slide open a crack. For a moment, he fought furiously against the instinct to snap them shut again, but finally, they adjusted enough for him to open them the rest of the day. Soft hands cupped his face, turning his head back to look at whoever it was, but Arthur had mastered one trick during his time in captivity. His eyes simply slid past whoever it was. If he couldn't put a face to the abuser, it didn't make it as personal.

"A...Arthur?" Arthur swallowed at the voice. He knew that voice, a distant memory in a past where there was no pain. But just as he began to place it, a wave of pain crashed over him and his eyes rolled wildly. Immediately, the burn reacted, flaring into life and bringing him back to consciousness again. His head was hanging when it finally died away. His exhausted mind and body was all but screaming for the welcome of the blackness. He didn't want to stay conscious any longer...

A curse sounded from somewhere in front of him, and then Arthur realised whoever this was must be new. The regulars had become used to seeing the burn flare white as it kept the prisoner alert.

"Its okay, Arthur. I'm going to get you out of here." The voice sounded close to tears, but Arthur was too busy focusing on one word. His name. For the first time in eight months, he was hearing another human say his name.

He felt the figure bend down, and before Arthur could comprehend anything, he felt the shackles around his ankles snap open. There was a pause, soft footsteps, before the chain binding him to the ceiling also lowered, and before Arthur had a chance to get a grip on reality, the manacles also snapped open and he was sent toppling forwards.

"Arthur! I'm sorry. C'mon, I'm going to get you out..." There it was again, the same promise, the same voice. An arm curled around his shoulders, clearly trying to get him to stand, and Arthur flinched back violently. He tried to stand, but his legs wouldn't support his weight. Well, what was left of it. Instead, he ended up in a crumbled heap on the floor, arms shaking as he tried to push himself up right. His legs burned and his back felt like it was on fire, but still he did not let a sound escape him.

Instead, he did the only thing he could think of. He pushed himself backwards across the floor. Normally, they had restrained him before they had freed him from the chains, although what they expected Arthur to be able to do, he had no idea. But this was the first time he had been untied for however long, and he wasn't going to sit by and let the chance escape him.

He didn't manage to get very far before his hand caught on the manacles now resting on the floor, immediately pitching him forwards. His elbow then proceeded to collide with the same manacle, and as he slipped, Arthur somehow twisted and ended up on his back. Only to instantly roll over, eyes smarting as the wounds on his back were caught.

"What have they done to you?" The voice whispered, and as Arthur lay there, he could have sworn a hand ghosted over the back of his head, the only part of his body that wasn't scarred in some way of the other. Breathing heavily through his nose, he made to push himself upright again.

"No, no, no, Arthur, stay there. I promise I'm going to get you out, just don't...don't hurt yourself anymore." The voice was gentle, almost caring sounding, and Arthur found himself with an almost overwhelming urge to just sit there and cry. He was so exhausted, in so much pain, and yet he couldn't escape it. Abuse he could take. Kindness on the other hand, he didn't know how to handle any more.

He hadn't realised the door had been left only slightly ajar until it burst open. Flinching, Arthur buried his head in the crook of his arm, trying to shield his eyes from the light.

"Bring the intruder to me. Take _him_ back to his cell, make sure the restraints are tight. He'll pay for this. You, check on Dunran. If he's alive, tell him he can have the boy in his cell, our apology." The voice was low and commanding and as footsteps thundered across the room, Arthur didn't put up a fight as the leather restraints immediately lashed his arms behind his back, despite the way it made his back burn. He was hauled to his feet, but once again, his legs instantly gave way. The man restraining him tutted irritably, bending down and tying the prince's feet. He then stood up again, and as if the once well built prince was nothing more than a child, slung him over his shoulder.

"Arthur!" The scream followed him out, and Arthur suddenly found himself concerned about whoever that was. But as he was thrown back into his cell and his arms once more lashed to the wall, he knew what they must have been doing.

Letting him think there was someone out there who still cared, only to pull it away from him at the last moment. Some of his tormenters could be quite twisted when they wanted to be. His eyes scrunched against a new wave of pain as his back connected with the wall, and immediately, the burn reacted, driving a darkness through him. Resting his head back against the wall, Arthur made no effort to stop the tears leaking from the corners of his eyes.

_When were they going to stop?_

**It's not over yet...**


	4. Chapter 4

**Just a quick warning again about the rating of this being for a reason, I don't want to upset anyone!**

**And for those of you worried about Merlin's reaction - think of it more as him being shocked...now reality has caught up with him a little! **

Arthur didn't move when he heard the door open. Why should he, they were going to do what they liked no matter what he did. He heard low voices murmuring, one sounding apologetic, the other angry. He refused to look around though, didn't want to give them the satisfaction of seeing the fear in his eyes. He couldn't help it, he had gone past masking the fear. He hadn't heard them sound this angry since his fourth and final escape attempt. Arthur attempted to compose himself as he heard footsteps get nearer, but when a hand grasped his hair, pulling his head back, he couldn't help but swallow hard as he found himself staring at Dunran. The man looked positively fuming.

"Leave us." He commanded to someone over his shoulder, and Arthur heard the man hesitate.

"I'm not sure, the boss wants him guarded."

"I'm here, am I not? I was promised an apology, now go." Unlike the voice he had used with Merlin, the sorcerer's voice was dripping with hatred. Whoever it was left, and Arthur felt the cord attaching his hands to the wall come lose before he was pushed down onto his stomach.

"Still think people are coming to find you, do you, princeling?" The man seemed insane, more than normal. He was driven by his need for revenge; it had become something of an obsession over the past few months. He placed his foot in the middle of Arthur's tattered back, and the prince's vision immediately waved until the burn brought him back to consciousness. He knew full well Dunran knew what the mark did, and he seemed to make it his personal mission of how many times he could activate it when he was given the prince.

Breathing heavily, but not making a sound, Arthur let his head drop forward. He could hear Dunran fumbling behind him, and before he knew what was happening, something cold and very solid had been forced in between his knees. Dunran fiddled with a few straps, lashing whatever it was to his legs and stopping Arthur from shaking it off. The prince felt himself trembling as he was arranged to Dunran's liking. There was a part of him that still screamed at him to react, to fight back. But his arms were lashed behind his back, and despite the majority of his legs being spread thanks to the bar, his ankles were still tied. He knew there was absolutely nothing he could do.

The feeling only intensified as he felt Dunran positioning himself. Without warning, the sorcerer's hands came down either side of Arthur's head as he pushed all the way in brutally. As Dunran set up a steady rhythm, his breathing coming in harsh gasps as he groaned now and again, Arthur let his mind go blank.

_He wasn't here, he couldn't feel this..._

A hand suddenly fisted itself in his hair, pulling his head back in time to meet Dunran's thrusts. If Arthur had anything in his stomach, he would have brought it up many times over, but as it was, he just squeezed his eyes shut, tears leaking from his eyes as he tried to keep himself grounded. Each thrust caused his hips to jerk forward, hitting the solid ground in front of him before he was jerked back again. It felt so much more real compared to when he was hanging. Apart from the cuts, he could almost guarantee he wouldn't be touched when he was in his cell, it was their way of keeping him alive. But whoever had tried to get him out had changed that. They had taken away the only form of respite Arthur knew.

Dunran was nearing his climax, Arthur could feel it as the thrusts got harder and faster each time, the man's breath coming in shallow pants. He could feel himself being ripped open, and yet he still did not vocalise his pain. Finally, with a long, shuddering breath, Dunran came, stilling for a moment before pulling out of the broken body. He delivered Arthur a sharp kick in the side as he stood up, but the young royal didn't react. His mind was closing down, refusing to accept what had just happened.

Dunran didn't let him stay oblivious for long. His hand once more entwined in the prince's hair and he jerked Arthur up into a kneeling position, spinning him around at the same time. His other hand grabbed Arthur's chin, forcing his mouth open. Arthur caught one look at Dunran's already half-hardened cock and shut his eyes.

_He would not feel this._

Something nudged at his mouth, and Arthur clamped it shut. Only to have Dunran's hand pull down harshly on his chin again. This time, Arthur didn't have time to react until something hot and wet thrust past his lips, hitting the back of his throat and making him gag.

But that was as far as it went. Arthur could vaguely hear the sounds of Dunran flying off him, some sort of exchange taking place. Arthur paid no attention, letting his body take over and rolling back over onto his side. The burn may not let him pass out, but his mind had learnt how to zone out, how to take him far away from this place.

"Arthur!" There is was again, that same voice as before. A gentle, yet firm grip snaked around his chest, pulling him upright. Arthur barely noticed as the bindings and the bar were removed, his mind still blank. If he didn't think, he couldn't feel it. A hand rested on the top of his head, and for a moment, Arthur felt a blissful sensation wash over him, his muscles all relaxing as the darkness he had been denied for so long began tugging at his vision. Arthur didn't fight it, instead letting himself slip down into its welcoming embrace.

Only to immediately be pulled back into reality as the burn flared into life. He tensed, trying to combat the feeling of the dark magic. By the time it faded away, he was shaking. Subconsciously, he leant back on whoever was holding him, letting his head rest against their shoulder as his breathing trembled in an effort to calm himself down.

He had yet to put a name to whoever it was. All he knew that the man was radiating a sense of safety, a type of security Arthur had forgotten about. Without knowing what he was doing, and having no reason to other than the fact the man had pulled Dunran off him, Arthur found himself trusting the figure.

As he felt his body leave the floor, Arthur didn't struggle. Promises were being spoken that he hadn't heard in a long time, and Arthur knew he believed them.

* * *

><p>"No! Arthur!" Merlin found himself thrashing wildly against the strong hands holding onto his arms as Arthur was carried away from him. Although he had been listening to what the men outside had been saying about what they had been doing to the prince, Merlin still couldn't believe the state he had found his master in. There were no words. Not only for the abuse his body had been through, or the magic used on him. But the look in his eye. The way he hadn't seemed to recognise his own servant, had tried to shy away from him when Merlin had tried to help him. He was vaguely aware of being dragged forward and pushed to his knees in front of whoever had given the commands, a biting grip on his shoulders keeping him down. But only one thought was crossing Merlin's mind. Was he too late? Had he lost Arthur?<p>

"Who are you, boy?" Silence met the man's question. Merlin suddenly realised how much danger he would be in if they discovered they had the prince's own manservant in their clutches, so instead opted for staring at the floor, trying to get the broken look Arthur had given him out of his head.

"Not chatty, eh? We know another like that. Aha, Dunran? My apologies, my old friend." Merlin twisted his head to watch as the man moved forward, clapping Dunran on the shoulder as he whispered something in the sorcerer's ear. The man nodded, and moved forward, hate burning in his eyes when he let his gaze meet Merlin's momentarily, and his face twisted into a leer. Merlin knew in that instant he _had_ to get to Arthur.

Before he could do so, a strong hand caught his chin, forcing him to look up at the man who had been giving the instructions to the first timers about how to treat the prince. "What are you, some sort of druid? A few of them tried to break him out, some misguided thoughts about a destiny or something. Their attempts didn't last long when we sent the last two back. In pieces."

Merlin felt sick again.

"But who do we send you back to, hmm? But then again," the man paused, tilting Merlin's head in the light thoughtfully. "We could use someone like you. Bit of a warm up act for those we have to hold back from killing him. No matter if you die, you aren't the target."

"Go to hell," Merlin snarled, shaking himself to try and rid himself of the biting grip on his shoulders. To his dismay, the man merely laughed, nodding at the men holding the warlock. They moved as one, pulling Merlin to his feet. His mind racing furiously, Merlin allowed himself to be bundled out into the main room, the voices going quiet as they stared at the strange party.

"Gents. Bonus offer for you. The prince's little saviour." So saying, the men pushed Merlin forward, and immediately, the crowds closed in around him, jeering. Merlin tried to fight them off, but there were too many of them. He shuddered at the feelings of their hands, _everywhere._ As one man pushed him forward onto all fours, Merlin let his magic build up. Before he could release it however, a hand entwined in his hair, jerking his head up to face his attacker.

"I know you." The voice muttered, and it was as if someone had cast a silencing spell over the room. A few people stepped back in surprise, and if Merlin wasn't deceived, concern. "You're the prince's servant, the kid always following him everywhere."

The man who had stopped Merlin from freeing the prince laughed, long and cold. "Seems you'll even follow him into hell. Don't you worry, you've got some catching up to do..."

"Wait." This voice sounded commanding, although Merlin could definitely detect a flicker of fear coming through. Another man moved forward, pushing the first none too gently to the side and gripping Merlin's chin in his hand. Even from his unusual position, Merlin could make out the druid symbol tattooed on his arm. The man stumbled back in horror when he met Merlin's eyes.

"Out! Everyone out!" The panicked yell was enough to make Merlin smirk as he climbed to his feet, power being radiated from him. "He's not just a mere servant. He's Emrys!"

All of the sorcerers in the room seemed to take a collective step back, a few even running for the door. The bandits just traded confused looks.

"Who?" One asked bluntly. Merlin smirked darkly as he locked eyes with the man who had announced it, an eyebrow raised as he dared the man to say it. He swallowed nervously, taking a tentative step backwards, unable to look away from Merlin's piercing gaze.

"The warlock of prophecy. He is to help the Once and Future King unite all of Albion." The bandits continued to look blank, magical prophecies being beyond their understanding. The man seemed to sense this, despite the fact he couldn't tear his eyes away from Merlin's ever darkening gaze. He swallowed hard before continuing. "The most powerful warlock ever to walk the earth."

"And we have him in our grasp?"

"Don't you understand, _no one _has him in their grasp." The man's voice trailed off as he took in the lingering smirk on Merlin's face. Right now, he couldn't be more right. It wasn't Merlin standing in front of him. It was Emrys. The warlock had a destiny to protect, and these people were standing in the way.

"_Videlicet cella illae spurcamen!"_ Merlin's arms were thrown out to the side as his eyes turned gold, magic being flung from him in a great wind. Men were sent flying. A few managed to escape out of the door, preferring to risk their chances with the forest than stay and take on Merlin's fury. Bodies hit the walls, sliding down to not rise again. Instead of fading back to their normal blue, Merlin's eyes remained pure gold.

He turned in time to see one of the men disappearing down a side door, and almost gracefully, he followed. He looked unearthly, almost seeming to float along as magic continued to pour from him. He couldn't pull it back in, and as Arthur's broken look swam before his vision once more, he wasn't sure he wanted to. The man was his best friend, and these people had reduced him to this. Anything that got even close to coming in his way was thrown violently to the side, and as Merlin reached the door he knew the man had hurried through, it was torn from its hinges.

The man he was following was tossed to one side as Merlin's golden eyes snapped to Dunran, pulsing even more when he took in the positioning of the man, especially considering the way his britches were tangled around his knees. One hand outstretched, and without a word being said, the sorcerer was lifted into the air. His hands scrabbled for his neck, his eyes growing wide with fear as he struggled to draw in a breath.

"How..?" He managed to gasp, attempting to question how Merlin was performing such a powerful magic, and yet was not uttering a word. Merlin's outstretched hand tightened as he clenched his fist and Dunran took one long gasp before his head lolled forward. Merlin wasn't even sure whether he was dead or just unconscious, but he tossed the sorcerer away to one side.

"Arthur!"

As Arthur was finally revealed to him once more, the gold immediately vanished. Blue shot back into his eyes as they filled with tears.

"Arthur..." His voice was a mixture between a choke and a sob as he stumbled forward, dropping to his knees next to the prince. He knew no one would challenge him now. He just had to find a way of getting Arthur out of here without hurting him even more. It was not going to be easy.

Sliding his hand around the prince's chest, Merlin let his eyes flash as he whispered a word under his breath, and automatically found himself able to take the prince's weight without a struggle. That wasn't the issue, however. With nearly every inch of him covered in some sort of sores, holding him was going to be harder.

Merlin gently rolled Arthur over, pulling away the bindings with shaking fingers and removing the cold bar from between his legs. Lifting him into a sitting position so that he didn't put any weight on his back, Merlin let his hand rest on top of his head. Maybe if Arthur wasn't conscious, it would make things easier...

He breathed a word silently, and let the trickle of magic escape from him, the movement mirroring the tears running down his face. The magic hit the prince, and instantly, Merlin felt his body relax. Only to violently tense again, his muscles practically shaking as he felt more than anything Arthur hold in the pain.

He moved forward, intending to take a look at the prince's face. Instead, his eyes were drawn to the burn even as it faded back to its normal colour. Merlin swallowed hard at the power of the magic. Looked like he was just going to have to see how much magic he could get away with having the prince conscious. Considering there hadn't yet been a flicker of recognition in Arthur's eyes, Merlin knew he would have a lot more leeway than normal.

Hating the fact that he knew this was going to hurt the prince, he stood up. Another flash of his eyes and he lifted Arthur easily, draping him over his shoulder. He hesitated before folding his arm across Arthur's legs. He could see the angry welts, and didn't want to pain him anymore. But he also knew he had no choice. He would deal with Arthur's pain afterwards. Right now, they had to get out of here.

With the help of the magic and sheer dumb luck, Merlin managed to get them back to his horse. The men in the building had either been unconscious – or worse, part of his mind viscously informed him – or had immediately shied away from his approach, despite the fact that he had the prince on his back. A whispered word sent a stream of magic ahead, and the dense undergrowth Merlin had struggled through before was disintegrated to nothing more than a few weeds.

Even with the use of his magic, Merlin's arms were trembling when he finally lowered Arthur to the ground, making sure to rest him on his stomach rather than his back. He angrily dashed away the tears once more building in his eyes as Arthur hid his face away, clearly expecting something harsh to come. Considering what he had heard and what he had walked in on Dunran doing, Merlin wasn't surprised.

It was only then that Merlin realised the prince was completely naked, covered in wounds from head to toe. Some looked older than others, and the warlock knew this had been going on since day one of his disappearance. He had one hand resting comfortingly on the back of Arthur's head, and reluctant to move, he simply flashed his eyes and his bag came floating over from where his horse stood picketed.

The first thing he drew out was his blanket. He draped it over the prince's lower half, making sure it didn't touch his back. The marks on his legs, whilst angry and sore, had not broken the skin, so Merlin was content to let the blanket cover him. Next he pulled out numerous phials of salves and potions Gaius thought he might have needed.

Turning away from the prince, he quickly built up a fire, setting aside some of the dried food he had brought with him. It was going to be a long night, and Merlin knew he needed his strength. He had to stay awake!

The warmth flickering beside him, he turned back to Arthur. Starting on one shoulder, he gently began cleaning some of the wounds. The dressings he had were only limited, meaning he was trying to save them for the worst wounds. His magic helped a little, but it was not an area he was practised in, and whilst it was being a help at bringing him what he needed, he was reluctant to try it on Arthur. The last thing he wanted was to make things worse.

Despite violently flinching and jerking away more than once, Arthur remained conscious the whole time. Merlin knew he had to do something about the burn inflicted on his friend, but his mind was drawing a blank at what.

What concerned the warlock even more however, was that Arthur stayed silent. It didn't matter if Merlin pushed down too hard on an exposed cut, or his hand brushed against the wounds on his back. Not once did the prince make a sound.


	5. Chapter 5

Merlin worked long and hard into the night, but he knew that he was barely touching upon Arthur's wounds. He treated the cuts littering his torso and arms, and managed to bandage the weeping wounds on his wrists. But by that point, he was exhausted. He knew he shouldn't stop, not when he hadn't even begun to contemplate how he was going to treat the prince's back, but his body and mind were screaming out him. A low throb had made residence in his temples, and as he stretched out for some more water, he couldn't help but notice that his hand was shaking. If he was honest, Merlin was not surprised. He had spent the night before fighting his way towards the building. But even before that, he had barely got enough rest. And now, suddenly, his mission was over.

Before Merlin quite realised what was happening, he fell asleep, one hand still resting on the prince's shoulder from where he had been trying to clean up a particularly deep cut. He knew Arthur would not sleep, and that was why he had been so determined to stay awake with him. Every time he had felt the blond's body relax, the infernal burn had flared into life. Merlin knew that if Arthur was going to have any chance of overcoming this, Merlin had to get that mark off. But that meant he would have to use magic – powerful magic at that – on the Crown Prince of Camelot.

Merlin wasn't sure how long he slept for. He knew it had been late by the time his body had given in, yet only a faint touch of light had begun to grace the horizon when he awoke again. It can't have been more than a few hours later, but the warlock was instantly aware that something was wrong. Very wrong.

He sat blearily up, staring around for a moment before his eyes fell on Arthur. Instantly, Merlin sprang to his feet with a shout of alarm. Something was happening to the man. He was shaking violently, a film of pain dulling his eyes. His hair was stuck to his forehead where he was sweating profusely, and Merlin didn't need to be able to hear his voice to know he was in agony. But as he watched, helpless, he noticed the tremors were beginning to lessen. At first, Merlin was relieved. But then he saw how Arthur's eyes were dulling even more.

"No!" Merlin dropped to his knees again, brushing Arthur's hair away and wincing when he felt the radiating heat coming from the man. He had cleaned the majority of the wounds, he was certain it couldn't be an infection. But then his eyes fell on the burn. Despite the fact it was glowing white, Merlin didn't need to be a physician to know that Arthur was fading, and fast. It was only then Merlin remembered one of the things one of the men had mentioned.

Poison.

Arthur had been poisoned. Merlin knew that he didn't have the magic to rid his body of it. Power wise, it would be easy. But he knew a spell like that would have to be complex, bordering on subtly. He didn't have time to try and get it wrong.

"Arthur, please! You can't leave me, not now." Merlin ignored the tears stinging in his eyes once more, focusing instead on Arthur. He reached across the ground, gripping the man's hand in his own. For a moment, he thought Arthur would pull away, but as he gazed back into the fading blue eyes, Merlin felt his heart catch. There was a flicker of recognition. Right now, just when he knew he was about to lose him, Arthur had recognised him. The faintest smile touched upon Arthur's lips, and an almost resigned look came into his eyes, before they rolled back into his head and he passed out. For the first time in eight months, the burn couldn't combat the poison tearing through him and allowed the prince the sanctuary of the darkness.

Merlin watched the prince lose consciousness with a racing heart. He had figured out enough about the burn to know its whole purpose was to keep Arthur conscious, but if magic that powerful couldn't stop the poison, then what chance did the prince have?

"No..." His hands scrambled over Arthur, resting one on his forehead and one over his heart. Merlin began chanting under his breath, every healing spell he ever knew pouring out of his mouth, forcing his magic into the man. Finally, he ran out of words to say, but as Arthur's breathing became more laboured, he knew that nothing had worked. Surprisingly, a few of the more minor cuts had healed themselves, but in the long run, nothing had helped. "Arthur, please..."

He reached out and tried slapping the man, anything to bring him back to alertness. But nothing worked. Merlin let out a yell of pure frustration and grief. How could he have been searching for eight months, only to lose Arthur now? He made to stand, to do _anything_ that would give Arthur a chance of surviving, when a slight rustle made him freeze.

"Who's there?" He called commandingly. But Merlin was beginning to lose his senses slightly, and didn't wait for a reaction. "_Fateor."_

With a flash of his eyes, there was a muffled squeak as whoever had been approaching was forcibly dragged forward by the magic. Normally, Merlin would refuse to let himself lash out like this, but with one hand still resting protectively on the back of Arthur's head, rational thoughts had left him. His face was paler than normal, a streak of blood across his cheek from where he had caught it with his hand after dressing a wound. His eyes were shadowed by dark circles, tear stains running down his cheeks. But it was his eyes that showed the most pain. Only a flicker of blue in the centre showed the human side of Merlin was still there. The rest was burning gold.

The gold faded slightly when a young man was thrown to the floor in front of him. Heavy manacles were clamped around his ankles and there was a bottle held tightly in his fist. He all but glared up at Merlin, not seeming to be surprised by the violent display of magic.

"I thought you were going to help him! You're no different to the others!" His words cut Merlin to the core, and he immediately released the spell on the youth.

"I _am_ helping him!" He cried, his hand stroking over Arthur's hair in an attempt of trying to get the young man to come back to him. "I just don't know how..." The end part of his sentence was nothing more than a whisper as he thought back to all of his failed attempts at driving the poison out of his friend.

"I do!" The man responded shortly. He staggered over, pushing Merlin roughly to the side. He made to roll Arthur over, but caught sight of his back and swore. Despite himself, Merlin had to smile. Whoever this was clearly wanted to help the prince, and the fact he was chained himself showed that he wasn't one of the tormenters. At least, that was what Merlin thought until he suddenly revealed a small dagger clenched in his opposite hand.

"_Retineo!"_Merlin's hand shot out in front of him and his eyes flashed as the man's hands were suddenly jerked above his head, held there by an invisible force. "I'm not going to let you hurt him."

"I'm not hurting him!" The man struggled furiously against the spell, but it wasn't for any reason that Merlin was the warlock of prophecy, feared and respected by other magic-users. It wasn't until Arthur's breathing changed again that the man stopped fighting. His words became desperate. "The cuts? They are new, yes? The only way to administer both the poison and the antidote is through a fresh wound, I've seen them do it. Please... you obviously care for him, or you wouldn't have risked what you did. I swear I don't want to hurt him, but if you don't let me down, there will be no time. Unless you give it to him yourself? All it takes is a small cut..."

Not being sure whether he could trust the man or not, Merlin prised the dagger from his restrained hands. He had nothing to lose; Arthur's breaths were coming shallow and short now. He bent down over the form of the prince, but stopped.

"I can't... I can't hurt him..."

"Then let me. You can kill me if you don't like what I've done; I've got nothing left to live for. But I can save him!" Merlin locked eyes with the man for a moment, before dropping his gaze and nodding. He saw nothing but the truth there, and with a muttered word, the spell was removed and the man's hands dropped to his side. Immediately, he snatched the dagger from Merlin's hand and approached the prince. Despite the fact Arthur was unconscious; Merlin still winced when the man made a small cut on his upper arm. Immediately, he tore the stopper off the bottle with his teeth and poured the contents over the wound. Before Merlin could say anything, he closed his hand around it, forcing the liquid into the cut.

Arthur instinctively bucked, but Merlin gasped when he heard the immediate change in his breathing. It was getting easier again. The man stood back, breathing hard as Merlin bent down.

"Arthur?" He tenderly brushed his hair back once again, and couldn't help but marvel in the way his skin seemed to have cooled. The burn flared white once more, but Merlin didn't think he would ever be so relieved to see Arthur open his eyes as he did right then. Part of him knew it was cruel dragging him back to consciousness, but it meant he was alive.

"You did it!" He whooped, the first true smile he had smiled in eight months splitting over his face. "He's alive!" The man smiled tightly back, sitting down on the floor and drawing his knees up under his chin, staring at the calmer Arthur. If the prince knew he was there, he made no attempt to show it. He had rolled onto his side, staring into the fire with an intensity Merlin had never seen before. His arms were wrapped around his stomach, his knees drawn in, clearly trying to make himself as small as possible. His movement had made the blanket slip.

Approaching him, Merlin kept his movements calm and soothing, one hand reaching up for the material. He could see dark bruises on the hip that was revealed, and Merlin felt a flash of pure fury shoot through him. With a conscious effort, he forced it back, making to tug the blanket up over Arthur again.

He wasn't expecting the prince's face to immediately close down. Arthur's chin rose slightly so he wasn't looking at Merlin, and the warlock could see tremors running up and down his legs from where he had obviously tensed.

"Arthur? It's just me, it's Merlin. I won't hurt you, you're safe now. Trust me, Arthur..." Keeping up a constant flow of soft reassurances, Merlin let his hand stretch out once again. Arthur flinched, but moved no more, allowing Merlin to pull the blanket back over his legs properly. "See? You're safe."

As soon as he had covered Arthur, Merlin pulled away, not wanting to crowd the prince. His heart was beating uncomfortably fast though. Would the Arthur he knew come back to him? There had been that flicker of recognition before, but still Arthur had pulled away. Merlin couldn't blame him. He had seen the injuries, he had witnessed firsthand what men like Dunran had done to the prince. It was going to take more than a few bandages before Arthur was alright again.

Crouching down next to the stranger, his eyes flashed wordlessly, and the chains fell off him. The skin underneath was red and raw, but a smile lit over his face.

"Merlin." Merlin stuck out his hand, determined to try and thank the man. He knew without this person, Arthur would be dead. The younger of the two didn't take it, but instead climbing to his feet, walking over to Arthur. "Leave him." Merlin said softly, rising himself in order to intervene.

The man didn't get any closer, but instead stared down at the prince. "I know who you are." He eventually admitted quietly, his voice sounding close to tears. Merlin blinked.

"You do? How?"

"Arthur used to talk about you. About all his friends back in Camelot. He knew the stories stopped me being so afraid of the dark. They used to punish him for it, but he wouldn't stop. He always made sure I felt safe." If Merlin thought the youth had sounded broken before, it was confirmed when he caught sight of the shaking shoulders in the dim fire light. He didn't say anything though, knowing the man was not finished.

"It's been at least three months since I last heard one. Since I last heard any sound from him in fact. I don't know what they did that day, but he hasn't uttered a sound since. How he keeps it in, I have no idea. But it doesn't matter what they do. He won't make a sound."

Merlin moved forward, putting a gentle hand on the man's shoulder. For a moment, he tensed, before relaxing again.

"What's your name?"

"Randolph." He said quietly, taking a deep breath as if to compose himself. "But Arthur always just called me Rand." Merlin smiled. Typical Arthur to come up with some sort of nickname.

"Well, Rand, you will hear him tell one of those stories again. We've got him out; he's alive thanks to you. The King will reward you for your help, no doubt. You can do what you want, go where you like now."

"The King? Why would the King reward _me?"_ Merlin frowned at the confusion in Rand's voice.

"Who is this?" He asked, pointing down at the tense figure curled at their feet.

"Arthur."

"Arthur who?"

"I don't know, he never said. Just said he was Arthur and that he lived in Camelot." Merlin felt a slow smile spread across his face as he crouched down. Arthur was still gazing into the fire, but didn't flinch away as Merlin brushed his hair back once more.

"So you aren't always a prat then." He muttered softly, turning to face Rand, but leaving his hand where it was. He didn't see another flicker of recognition in Arthur's eyes at his words. "Rand, meet Arthur Pendragon, Crown Prince and sole heir to the throne of Camelot."

Merlin had never seen the colour drain so quickly from someone's face before, and he leapt up just in time to stop Rand from falling.

"Prince?" He gasped, his eyes finally meeting Merlin's smiling ones, who nodded softly. "I just saved the prince's life?"

"You did." Merlin glanced around him, realising the sun was practically fully risen and the fire was dying down. He needed to get back to tending to Arthur's wounds. They were far too close to the building for the warlock to be happy with, but he knew he wouldn't be able to move Arthur like this. Never mind magic, Merlin knew he had to take this slow to let the prince's body adjust to the changes it was going through. With any luck, having a day free from being beaten would be enough to do the trick. But he couldn't do this alone...

Coming to a sudden decision, Merlin looked Rand straight in the eye.

"Can you ride?" When the young man nodded, Merlin crossed over to the horse. Within a matter of moments, he had removed anything else he might need, making her load as light as possible. "She knows the way home. Ride hard and fast, get back to Camelot. Find Gaius, the Court Physician. Tell him I've found him." Tears shone momentarily in his eyes. "But that I need his help. And tell him to bring the Round Table, he'll know precisely what I mean."

Merlin took hold of the horse's reins, leading her back to the edge of the clearing. He watched silently as Rand swung himself up before passing him the reins. But the warlock didn't let go.

"Rand, you saved the prince's life. But you can end mine just as easily. Please. Say nothing of what I can do?" For a moment, confusion was the only emotion evident, but then Rand nodded. He smiled slightly as he adjusted his grip.

"I don't know who you are, and apart from a few tricks, I don't really know what you can do. All I know is that Arthur tried to help me, and you are trying to help him. I won't say a word."

And with that, he touched his heels to the horse and she shot off. Within moments, her thundering hooves were swallowed up by the sounds of the forest waking up. Walking back over to the dwindling fire, Merlin poked a couple of new sticks in, knowing the flames were giving Arthur some sort of comfort. It was the least he could do considering he wasn't able to get near the man himself.

"Just you and me now, Sire." He muttered heavily, sitting back down and twirling a stick around his fingers, not being sure what else to say. He finally glanced back at Arthur, and felt his breath catch in his throat. Arthur was looking at him. Not just his eyes pointing in that general direction like the times before, but genuinely looking at him, meeting Merlin's gaze head on.

"Arthur?" Merlin's words came out as nothing more than a breath. Arthur blinked slowly, but didn't look away. And then, to Merlin's horror, his eyes filled with tears.

He had never seen the prince look so broken and defeated.


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you so much for all of those reviews/alerts!**

It took all of Merlin's self control not to immediately rush over to Arthur. But he knew from the way the prince had reacted before and from what he could remember Gaius once telling him, he knew it would be a mistake. He had to give Arthur time, wait until the man was feeling comfortable with Merlin's presence. He knew it might be helping his friend, but it was killing the warlock. Instead, he did the one thing he knew Arthur wouldn't have seen much of over the last eight months. He smiled gently at him.

"Hey." He shuffled a little closer, making sure the fire stayed between them, but he wanted to be able to judge Arthur's reactions. He wanted to see how much of _his_ prince was still left. Arthur's eyes followed Merlin's movement, and for a moment, he did tense, but when it was clear there was no threat, he relaxed again. The tears were spilling over now, his shoulders trembling slightly, but still not a sound came from him. Merlin suddenly couldn't wait for Gaius to get here.

"It's okay, Arthur. You're going to be okay, I promise. You are safe now. See, just clumsy old me here now. Just like the old days, remember? When you dragged me hunting, moaning the whole time about your armour not being clean enough or the crossbow not oiled to your satisfaction? Remember? We'll be doing it again soon most likely." Keeping his voice low and reassuring, Merlin had no idea if it was doing anything to calm down the silently sobbing prince. He knew that it was going to be at least four days until Gaius arrived, given their distance and the fact they would be relying on Rand to remember where they were.

It took what felt like an age to the warlock, but finally, Arthur's tears slowed. He went back to staring into the fire, and Merlin wished he could do something, _anything_, to get rid of the haunted look in his eye. He would use whatever magic he could, regardless of whether Arthur would see him or not, but he didn't know what would help. Something told him that this was a situation needing normal solutions to solve it rather than turning to magic.

He was also aware that he desperately needed to do something about Arthur's back. But Gaius hadn't expected Merlin to actually find the prince, especially not in this state, and Merlin was already running low on supplies. He had cleaned it up the best he could, but didn't know how to dress it with what he had left. Instead, he just knew he had to keep it as clean as possible until the physician arrived.

That was precisely what Merlin did. He spent the next two and a half days desperately trying to patch Arthur up the best he could. He slept in odd fits when his body gave up, but never let himself sleep for long, knowing that Arthur wasn't able to escape reality in the same way and he hated leaving him like that. His magic was being used in every way he could. Anything from cleaning out the bandages, shielding himself from Arthur's gaze by simply turning his back so the prince couldn't see. There was a magical shield around their small camp, intending to warn him of any intruders or anything that might possibly be a threat. He even used it for hunting more than once, but no matter how much he tried to tempt Arthur, the prince wouldn't eat anything. Nor would he accept the water Merlin offered him, and not wanting to force him, Merlin didn't push. He knew the burn would keep Arthur alive. They had wanted him alive for a reason, and Merlin –whilst not trusting the men - did trust the power of the magic to carry on doing that. Let Gaius be the one to force Arthur, Merlin would not.

He was limited to when the prince would allow him to approach. On some occasions, Arthur's mind almost seemed to just blank out, and Merlin would take his chance, getting as much done. Even if it was something as simple as just using his magic to protect their clearing a little more whilst Arthur was paying no attention to his surroundings. But when Arthur's blue eyes snapped onto his, Merlin knew to back off. That was when Arthur would flinch away, and on the morning of the third day, he even pushed himself backwards away from Merlin. Whilst it hurt to see the look of fear in the once confident eyes, Merlin was pleased. It meant something in the prince was obviously feeling better enough to warrant trying to escape. But it also meant he had yet to truly accept that he was safe.

Every time Merlin contemplated the burn, he found he truly had no idea what to do about it. He simply didn't know how to remove it, knowing he could be making things worse rather than better. Hating that he couldn't rid Arthur of the magic, he knew that was one thing that was going to have to wait for Gaius. It felt like a very long few days, but finally, Merlin caught the sound his ears had been straining for over the last few hours. Hooves.

A grin immediately split over Merlin's tired face. He could easily distinguish five different sets, and he knew there was more mingled in that he just couldn't pick out. He had been attempting to clean Arthur's back again, knowing the prince had been in one of his zoned out moods. So when Arthur flinched violently, shrinking back into Merlin, the warlock knew he too had heard the hooves.

"It's alright. It's just the Knights. And Gaius. They're here to take you home." Even so, Merlin knew it showed how far Arthur had come. He hadn't tried to shy away from contact, only the new-comers. In fact, he had done the opposite, seeking out Merlin. The warlock couldn't stop the smile on his face growing. There was hope yet.

Gwaine and Lancelot arrived first, drawing their mounts up the second they caught sight of the pair by the fire. Gwaine swung down from his saddle, took two steps towards them and stopped. The colour drained from his face and he seemed to almost visibly sway.

"Fuck."

Merlin never thought a word had been so appropriate as it did right then, and he couldn't help but smile tightly at his friends, bringing his hand to rest on the back of Arthur's head in an attempt to comfort the man. Arthur had gone rigid at the new-comers, and Merlin could see his feet were scrabbling slightly, clearly trying to get a foothold so that he could back away.

"Its okay, Arthur. They won't hurt you, I promise." Merlin turned apologetic eyes on the pair. "Mind not coming any closer?"

"Merlin, what happened?" Lancelot's voice was soft and full of concern when he took in the state of the prince. Merlin shook his head, not wanting to go into it yet. If this was the reaction now, he didn't want to know how they were going to react when they discovered Arthur had been flogged, let alone what Dunran had done.

"Sire!" Leon's soft exclamation of horror announced his arrival as he, Percival and Elyan trotted into the area, Gaius and Rand right behind them. Merlin caught Rand's eye and smiled his gratitude. The rest of the Knights dismounted, but seemed to realise Gwaine and Lancelot were moving no closer and followed their lead, for which Merlin was eternally grateful.

"Rand? He knows you, do you think..?" Merlin couldn't look at the Knights as Rand slipped forward. It was their duty to protect the prince, and yet Merlin wasn't letting them near, instead handing him over to a complete stranger. The warlock knew that if anyone was going to be able to approach Arthur though, it would be Rand.

He wasn't in luck though. As Rand approached, Arthur flinched back again, and immediately his eyes rolled in his sockets as his back came into connection with Merlin.

"Magic!" Leon spat, and Merlin knew the burn would be flaring into life, dragging the prince back into reality. Merlin quickly pulled away, making sure none of the wounds stuck to his shirt, and rolled Arthur onto his stomach. He left one hand against the back of the blond's head, making sure Arthur knew he was still there, and reached for the cloth he had been using before with the other.

"What have they done?" Elyan's whisper broke through the stunned silence, and Merlin looked up with pain filled eyes of his own when he took in the expression of the Knights, of his _friends_. They were all staring at Arthur's mangled back in sheer disgust and horror. Luckily, even with all the movement, the blanket had remained draped over Arthur. Merlin had no desire for them to witness how far the abuse had gone.

"Give me the wineskin." Gwaine suddenly demanded, breaking out of the almost trance he seemed to have slipped into when he caught sight of Arthur's back.

"I really don't think..." Lancelot began, but Gwaine strode past him, snatching the item from Lancelot's saddle. Without waiting to see what the reaction was going to be, he strode forward. Merlin increased the pressure on Arthur's head, not only restricting his movement, but offering him a comforting force to focus on. He knew what Gwaine was about to do. In all credit to the Knight, he paused before he did it, eyes seeking out Gaius. The physician squinted across the clearing at the shaking prince, and nodded.

Gwaine immediately upended the wineskin. The red liquid sloshed over the wounds on Arthur's back, and he immediately arched, writhing away. Although the set of Gwaine's jaw showed he didn't want to be doing this, he didn't let up until he had washed down the prince's back. Merlin nodded his thanks as the Knight finally stepped away again. He had been wishing from the very beginning he had something more than water to treat Arthur's wounds, but as Arthur continued to writhe under his hand, he was glad he hadn't. He would have never been able to wash down the wounds like that knowing how much it would hurt the prince, even if he knew how much cleaner they would have been.

"Blimey, how the hell did he not scream at that, I would have." Gwaine couldn't help muttering as he walked back to the horses, tossing the now empty skin back over to Lancelot. The Knight caught it without even blinking before offering him a slightly sheepish and apologetic grin, which Gwaine returned, clapping the man on the shoulder as he passed. Merlin caught Rand's eye.

"He doesn't scream at anything, Gwaine."

"Merlin, I know you believe in the guy, but seriously? Even Arthur has to feel..."

"He doesn't make a sound." Rand interrupted, studying the floor as the Knights turned to look at him, his head bowed. Merlin felt a flash of anger shoot through him. The man was clearly so used to submission he couldn't even face the one group Merlin knew he was more than a servant around. He was one of them, regardless of status, and suddenly swore to himself that he would make Rand feel the same. It was the least he could do for the man.

"What do you mean?" Merlin didn't think he had ever heard Sir Leon sound so uncertain, so _scared_ as he did right then.

"It doesn't seem to matter what's going on around him, he won't make a sound." Merlin sought out Gaius's eyes as he spoke, and the physician stepped forward, a look of extreme sadness crossing his face.

"A reaction of someone who has undergone something traumatic. It's a way of protecting his mind."

"Will he speak again?" Gwaine asked bluntly, eyes also fixed on the physician. Gaius sighed, suddenly sounding incredibly old.

"That's up to him. Merlin, I need to talk to you. I need to know what his injuries are."

"I can't leave..."

"Merlin." Gaius's firm tone caught Merlin's attention, and he suddenly realised quite how understanding the physician's gaze was. Gaius had seen enough of Arthur's injuries and behaviour to know there was something much deeper going on than what his ward was going to admit to in front of the Knights. Merlin felt his eyes fill with tears once more at the look Gaius was giving him. He knew.

"Arthur?" Merlin crouched down so that he could see eye-to-eye with the broken man. "I just need to move to one side. Your friends are here though. Gwaine and Lancelot. Leon, Elyan and Percival. They are going to help. And Rand. You know Rand, you helped him..."

Gaius gently moved forward, taking Merlin's arm and pulling him away from the prince. He knew that given the choice, the boy still wouldn't leave him. Gaius manoeuvred the pair of them over to the far side of the clearing. "Merlin, what happened?"

Merlin looked at the ground. He couldn't bring himself to look his mentor in the eye. "I think I killed a load of them." He muttered quietly, feeling ashamed of letting his magic lash out like that. "They were all paying...for eight months they've been paying to have a chance to beat him. I should have found him in time, I should have done something. I was just so angry..."

"Merlin, your powers are great, you must be careful." Gaius chided gently, but he couldn't bring himself to mean it. He hadn't even begun an examination of the prince to know they were going to be lucky to ever be able to heal the once proud Pendragon. Whoever had done this deserved nothing less than what Merlin had thrown at them, and the physician just wished he had been there to see it when the warlock unleashed his power. There were times when even he was not above revenge.

"I know..." Merlin mumbled miserably, sitting heavily down on a small log at the edge of the clearing and staring back over at Arthur. Rand was managing to get in his eye line without Arthur turning away, but the rest of the Knights were keeping well back. It was almost as if they were scared of going closer, scared of having to see quite what state their prince was in. If he was honest, Merlin couldn't believe how used to Arthur's condition he had become in the few days he had been on his own with the prince. He had had no choice but to get used to it.

"Merlin? I need to know. What can you tell me about what they have done to him?"

"They had these whips," Merlin whispered, his hands clenching when he remembered how it felt to hold it in his hand, knowing precisely what they expected him to do with it. He felt Gaius tense beside him. "The room was in complete darkness, I only knew he was there because I could sense him. No one was allowed to talk to him, and definitely not say his name. But they were allowed to vent their frustrations." He didn't realise he was beginning to tremble, images of finding the state the prince was in playing across his mind. Vividly, the position of Dunran when he had first blasted the man away sprung to mind, and before he could react, Merlin found himself retching violently.

Gaius moved next to him, rubbing his back soothingly, but keeping the Knights away with just a mere wave of his hand. They respected his judgement to know when not to interfere. Finally, Merlin regained a little control, sitting up with streaming eyes. His tremors were more visibly now, and Gaius reached out a gnarled hand, closing it with surprising strength over Merlin's, steadying him.

"It's alright, my boy." His voice was soft and gentle, yet firmly reassuring at the same time. If he was honest, he was just as worried about his ward as he was about the prince. Merlin didn't seem to realise how little he had eaten and slept over the last few days, especially considering the amount of magic he had been using.

"No, Gaius, it's not." Even Merlin's voice was shaking now, tears sliding thick and fast when he considered what Arthur must have gone through whilst Merlin was scouring the countryside looking for him. "There was this one man... he..."

"Merlin, what is it?"

"Gaius, they raped him." As if he had suddenly realised what he had said, Merlin gasped, locking eyes with Gaius and seeing the horror, shock and outrage spring into the old man's eyes.

Merlin couldn't hold back the anguish he had gone through over the last eight months, if not longer. Before he knew what was happening, his body was pitching forward. Despite it only being a very short distance towards the ground, he was out cold before he hit it. Gaius had dived forward the second he realised what was happening, but his old body wasn't quick enough.

Instead, he just had to watch as his ward hit the floor, knowing there was nothing he could do for the boy. Arthur was the only one with the power to heal Merlin now.


	7. Chapter 7

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"Merlin!" Gaius looked up from where he had been crouched over the fallen warlock when Gwaine's shout filled the air. As the Knight made to rush over, Gaius held up his hand.

"Stay back. He needs space." Gwaine nodded and stilled, but the physician could see the way his eyes never left the still form of his friend. Letting his eyes slide past the man and onto the state of the rest of the men, he sighed. Rand – a man Gaius was determined to find out more about – was the other side of the fire to Arthur, clearly trying to keep the man calm. Lancelot and Elyan had also started to head over to Merlin. Leon was standing back, but his eyes were fixed on Arthur, and Gaius could see the pain in them. The physician wasn't surprised. Leon had been in charge of the prince's training for as long as Arthur had been old enough _to_ train, and Gaius knew the proud young man had become like a nephew to the loyal Knight. Seeing him like this was killing him as much as it was Gaius. Percival was standing to one side, his strength giving the area a certain safety.

"What happened?"

"His mind suddenly processed what he has been denying since finding Arthur." Gaius sighed heavily, navigating his ward into a more comfortable position before finding something to cushion the boy's head. For a moment, he let his hand ghost over Merlin's hair.

"What?" Gwaine asked bluntly, slowly beginning to relax a bit now that he could see that whilst Gaius was worried about Merlin, it wasn't anything life threatening. There was no way the physician would be this relaxed if the man everyone knew was like a son to him was in any real danger. Gaius looked up at him with sorrow in his eyes.

"We all know that Merlin has barely rested in eight months, determined to find the prince. Now he's found him. But this isn't the Arthur he was hoping to find. He has found the prince, now he just still has to find his friend." Silence met his speech, everyone's attention fixed on the pair. No one saw another flicker of emotion shoot through Arthur's eyes. Rand frowned at the prince, sensing the change.

"Arthur?" He moved forward quietly, wondering if the man was going to let him approach. Arthur looked at him, making contact for the first time. Rand almost gasped, but managed to hold it back in time, knowing if the others came over, Arthur would close down again. Somehow, he knew what was provoking the change in Arthur. "He's going to be okay, you know. Just a bit tired."

There was a flicker of emotions shooting through Arthur's eyes now. Rand got the distinct impression that there was a part of Arthur that _wanted_ to say something, but he couldn't do it. The frustration was more than obvious, but when Percival moved slightly, cracking a twig at the same time, the prince immediately curled up tighter. Rand sighed.

"G...Gaius?" His voice was hesitant and low, and his eyes immediately found the floor when the Knights looked over at him, but the physician got to his feet. He nodded at Gwaine, and immediately he and Lancelot rushed to Merlin's side as the old man tottered over towards Rand.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing as such." Rand stood up, frowning down at Arthur. The emotions were gone now, his eyes taking on the hollow and empty look once again. "I think...I mean, I'm not sure, but something in him reacted to that news. You could see it in his eyes."

A grin split over Gaius' face as he too looked down on Arthur. The flames were reflecting in the hollow eyes, but the physician felt a rush of relief. If, only for a moment, there had truly been a sign of the old Arthur, then there was still hope.

"Gaius, he's coming round!" Gaius took one last look at Arthur, before speeding back to Merlin. It wasn't as if the prince was going anywhere soon, and Gaius knew it was going to take a long time to dress that amount of wounds. A few more moments to make sure Merlin was alright wasn't going to hurt. The physician carefully lowered himself back to his knees – accepting Lancelot's steady hand with a smile – just in time for Merlin's eyes to flutter open. A look of sheer disorientation and confusion crossed his face before his eyes focused. There was such an intense sadness in them Gaius all but felt his heartbreak.

"Gwaine, can you fetch Merlin some food and water?" As Gwaine scurried off, Gaius glanced around. Only Lancelot remained in earshot. "Merlin, take down the barrier."

"Barrier?" Through his exhaustion, Merlin had forgotten about the magical barrier he had constructed to try and keep Arthur safe.

"I know you; I can sense your magic." Gaius was whispering furiously now, letting Lancelot be the one to keep his eyes open for any of the rest of them approaching. He had a feeling that out of everyone in Camelot, this would be the one group to accept the warlock for who he truly was, but considering how much they had to deal with already with the prince, he didn't think now was the right time for that to be put to the test. "And I know how much you want to protect Arthur. But let the Knights do that now, pull back the magic before you kill yourself."

For a moment, Merlin just stared at his mentor. Sighing, he dropped his gaze, letting his eyes flash golden and mumbled a word under his breath. He really felt the barrier dropping. It was as if a weight he didn't even know he had been carrying suddenly left him, causing him to almost gasp at the sensation of light headiness. He made to sit up, but Gaius immediately put his hand on the boy's shoulder, forcing him to carry on lying down for another moment. Eventually he relented, and helped Merlin sit up, watching him worriedly.

"You didn't notice, did you? Merlin, you must be careful. That type of magic is a constant drain on your strength; it would have killed you before you remembered the spell. I know in...in normal circumstances you can handle it, but Merlin, this will destroy you. You've always controlled your magic. If you carry on like this, _it_ will control _you._ You are becoming too reliant on it. Don't lose yourself in this, Merlin, that will help no one."

"I was preoccupied." Merlin muttered quietly, his eyes automatic sliding over to where Arthur was curled up. Gaius followed his gaze and sighed heavily.

"It's about time I saw to him." He pulled himself to his feet, surprised when Merlin suddenly shot up beside him. When Gaius raised an eyebrow, Merlin shrugged.

"He's getting used to me. You might need my help." Gaius had no response for that and instead lead the way over to the fire. Rand immediately jumped backwards, only relaxing when Merlin smiled reassuringly at him. The Knights all moved in a little, but kept their distance. Gaius took one look at Arthur and beckoned Leon over.

"Sire, you've helped me treat him in the past. Do you think..?"

"Of course, Gaius."

"Gaius, I don't think he'll..."

"I don't care." Merlin blinked at the aggressive tone in the physician's voice, looking shocked. Gaius caught his look and sighed. "Merlin, we don't have time to pander to what Arthur wants. It's what he needs that is important. It might scare him, true. But he will eventually accept it is helping him." His voice lowered, and he rested one hand on Merlin's shoulder. "Trust me, Merlin."

Merlin felt close to tears, but nodded. One glance at Arthur and he knew they were going to have a fight on their hands from the beginning, for the prince was in one of his more alert moods. Gaius gave his shoulder a squeeze and dropped to his knees in front of Arthur, smiling his thanks when Elyan hurried over with the physician's – rather large – bag before backing off again.

Arthur immediately flinched backwards, trying to pull away from Gaius' now outstretched hands. Leon moved in behind the prince, holding one shoulder firmly to stop the movement as Gaius gently pulled Arthur's wrists towards him, untying the clumsy bandages Merlin had attempted to dress the wounds with. Merlin moved in closer, wincing at the pain in Gaius's eyes when he witnessed just how injured Arthur was, but crouched down next to the prince's head, his hand once more resting on Arthur's head. Over the last few days, he had found it was a touch Arthur seemed to accept, almost relax into.

It didn't work. All Arthur was obviously seeing and feeling was Gaius holding his wrists in a firm grip and Leon making sure he stayed pinned to the floor. He was struggling, far harder than his attempts against Merlin. In a way, the warlock just hoped that it meant Arthur was regaining some of his strength.

"Gaius, please...it's hurting him..."

"Merlin, I told you to trust me." It was clear by Gaius's voice that this was paining him to be this responsible for Arthur's struggles. He rested his hand on the prince's shoulder, nodding at Leon. As one, they tried to roll him onto his stomach so that the physician could get a better look at his back.

Arthur snapped. His first blow caught Leon by surprise, sending the Knight backwards. Gaius managed to catch the flaying hand, pinning both of his wrists gently together.

"Arthur, listen to me. We have to help you. But we need you to calm down. Arthur, listen to my voice..." Despite the commands in his tone, Gaius's voice wasn't getting through to the panicking prince. "Knights! Help us hold him, I have to see to his back before infection sets in."

The rest of the group ran forward and Merlin found himself pushed gently out of the way. "No! Can't you see, you're scaring him! Just let him calm down! Gaius, please!"

Merlin was ignored as the knights took up position. Lancelot shot Merlin a sympathetic glance before he moved forward with Elyan. None of them wanted to do this, but they knew the sooner Arthur's wounds were clean; he would be that one step further to recovery. His mental state was going to take a long time as it was; they may as well make sure his body was on the way to recovery. As Arthur kicked out, Lancelot grabbed his ankle, but the blanket moved. His sharp intake of breath was enough to alert the other Knights to the fact that something was very wrong.

Gaius relinquished his hold on Arthur's wrists to Percival and move towards them. With slightly trembling hands, he drew the blanket back. Large, red and angry welts covered the prince's legs from his last beating, but Merlin knew that wasn't what had Gwaine breathing heavily. It was the blood. Blood that could only be there from one thing...

"I'm gonna tear their heads off!" He snarled, backing away from Arthur in anger. The prince had tensed when he felt the blanket move, and it almost broke Merlin's heart to see the look that had over taken him. He was zoning out again. Merlin knew without having to be told that the prince was expecting an attack, and as Gaius placed a hand on the back of his leg to try and see how bad the welts were, Merlin knew what was going through the prince's head.

"Gaius! Please, just leave him alone!" Gaius looked around. Merlin had run forward, attempting to prise Percival's hands away from Arthur. Instead of answering his ward, he instead caught Leon's gaze as the man approached again. The rest of the Knights were more Merlin's friends than they were Arthur's. But Leon's loyalties lay with the prince first and foremost, and he knew the Knight was the only one he could trust to do this. He let his eyes flicker towards Merlin, and Leon nodded his understanding.

Merlin didn't hear his approach. He had taken to hitting Percival on the arm, doing anything he could to make the man _let go._ He was even beginning to contemplate magic. He trusted Gaius, he really did. But he couldn't stand seeing Arthur like this. Whether it was knowing the man so well, or because he had grown used to seeing how Arthur reacted to certain touches over the last few days, he wasn't sure. All he knew was that the prince was terrified.

Merlin was so solely focused on Arthur he let out a yell of frustration when Leon took hold of his arms, drawing him away. He was forcibly pulled back, the rest of the Knights moving further in to help Gaius. They had Arthur completely pinned now, and Gaius's hands were all but flying as he began tending to the wounds. Merlin had never seen him work so fast, and part of him realised it was because Gaius too knew how terrified Arthur was.

But that didn't stop him from struggling hard against Leon. The man had one arm looped around the warlock's chest, holding him back and pinning his right arm to his side. Leon's other hand was gripping tightly onto Merlin's left wrist, and despite how small Merlin was in comparison, he was really having to call upon all his strength to hold onto him.

"Merlin, Gaius has to help him. Arthur needs Gaius."

"He needs me!" Merlin yelled, not noticing Rand take an uncertain step backwards. It was clear he had picked up that he was surrounded by Knights, and seemed to have realised Merlin wasn't one of them. Yet considering the power he knew the warlock held, he wasn't using it. Instead he was fighting physically to get back to the prince. When he met Rand's eyes briefly, the man could see it was taking all of Merlin's self control not to lash out with his magic.

Gaius finished with the prince when he felt Arthur's breathing bordering on hyperventilation. He backed away smoothly, gesturing for the knights to do the same. Almost immediately, Arthur calmed down again. Gaius hated having to have kept going until he had been at that state, but it did mean the majority of the wounds were dressed. He wouldn't have to attempt to touch the prince until later the following day, something for which he was grateful. The sooner Arthur learnt to trust them, the better. Now they had over a day to try and make the prince realise they meant him no harm.

"Merlin? Merlin, I need you to calm down. Arthur's fine, look..." Gaius rested a calming hand on Merlin's shoulder, but the boy didn't seem to see it. All he could see was the terrified face of the prince burnt into his vision, and all he was thinking was that he was the one who put it there. He had been the one to call the Knights and Gaius to come here, he had been the one who had failed Arthur for eight months. Whatever the Dragon said, Merlin had failed. He had failed in his destiny, but more importantly, he had failed Arthur.

Luckily, Gaius seemed to realise what was happening. "Leon, sit him down, _now_." He pulled something out of his back, and forced it into Merlin's hand. When the young man didn't even notice, Gaius felt himself worrying even more.

"Gaius, what's happening?" Gwaine, ever the curious one, was approaching now, a frown on his face when he took in the ashen complexion of his friend. "What's wrong with Merlin?"

"He's going into shock." Gaius practically snapped, all but wrenching the bottle back out of Merlin's hand. He pulled the stopper off and nodded to Leon. As the man tipped Merlin's head back, Gaius emptied the contents down Merlin's throat. He didn't even seem to notice. The whole clearing seemed to hold its breath for a long moment, before Merlin suddenly sagged against Leon, fast asleep.

"Let's get him comfortable." Gaius muttered, and Leon gently deposited Merlin on the ground. Between the rest of the Knights, they managed to get the fire built up and gently covered the boy in warm blankets.

"How long will he be out for?" Lancelot asked softly as he slipped his folded cloak under Merlin's head. The young warlock looked terrible.

"Hopefully until at least tomorrow. He has barely slept or eaten over the last week, he's been too busy trying to look after Arthur. He should be able to think about food once he has rested."

Another silence fell across the clearing. Seeing Merlin's chest rise and fall steadily was what was reassuring most of the Knights, knowing they could still help their friend. How had things got this bad?

"Gaius?" The physician partly wanted to groan as Rand called him, but he turned away from his now sleeping ward all the same, offering the young man a smile. He had seen the wounds around Rand's bare feet. The boy had both refused treatment and shoes, but Gaius knew they were lucky he had been mentally sound enough to make the journey. Arthur certainly wouldn't have made it, and Gaius wasn't sure Merlin would have either, not considering how his ward had been since they had arrived.

"What is it?" His voice was patient and gentle, but Rand wasn't looking at Gaius. He was standing in front of Arthur, blocking the prince from the physician's view. He twisted his head back around to Gaius, and there was a mixture of a smile and a confused frown on his face. Frowning himself, Gaius took a step forward. "Rand, what is it?"

Rand didn't answer, but instead stepped to one side. Gaius felt his breath catch in his throat when he saw Arthur, unable to stop the smile spreading across his face.

Arthur was far more alert than Gaius had yet to see him. But he was completely ignoring the Knights. Instead, his eyes were locked on Merlin, and as Gaius watched, it almost looked like the prince was trying to move that way. As he struggled to move again, only to flop back down onto the ground, clearly exhausted, Gaius felt his smile widening. The look in Arthur's eye said it all.

He was worried about Merlin.

**Thought I'd explain Gaius' tough love approach - Merlin has been so worried about Arthur's mental state, he's been holding back on cleaning some of the wounds not to hurt him - Gaius sees that they have to be cleaned NOW otherwise infection and things will set in and he will be much worse. He's not really just being a cold hearted git!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you so much for the amazing support! Just as a warning, I am still writing this as it goes along, so trying my hardest to make the updates steady, but may slip!**

The sun was filtering through the trees when Merlin forced his heavy eyes open. He hadn't slept that deeply since...since he couldn't recall when. His limbs were heavy with fatigue and his mouth was dry. For a moment, he was content just to lie there, staring up at the sky. For the first time in eight months, he was feeling more at peace. He had found Arthur, Gaius was here to look after the prince and the Knights were here to protect him. And Merlin...Merlin was here to make sure the royal was okay, the same way he had always done.

Finally, Merlin let his head roll to the side. Over the far side of the clearing, Gwaine, Lancelot and Elyan were talking in unusually subdued tones. Gwaine glanced over, but he didn't seem to notice Merlin was awake. Merlin didn't even notice them looking. Instead, he only had eyes for something much closer. Gauis was sitting against a nearby tree, watching Merlin with a small smile. But Merlin knew it wasn't only him the physician was watching. For directly in front of him, was Arthur.

The prince was sitting – itself a vast improvement – his knees drawn into his chest. Someone had had the sense to bring spare clothing with them, and someone – Merlin had no idea who – had managed to persuade the prince to put on the loose breeches. It must have been a struggle, but there could be no denying Arthur looked far more comfortable. His torso was still bare of clothing, although practically swamped with bandages. His eyes seemed far clearer than before. The pain and confusion still lingered, almost dominating. But it was also obvious that he was watching Merlin.

"Arthur?" The prince merely blinked as Merlin reached out to him, and seeing the way he tensed slightly, Merlin stopped himself. Merlin pushed himself upright, groaning as he forced the blood to flow through his limbs again. Gaius hurried over, handing Merlin a platter.

"Eat that, my boy. You need your strength. How are you feeling?" His questions made Merlin smile, glad that there could once again be a sense of normality. He had cut himself off from his friends too much during the last eight months, but as his gaze flickered back to Arthur, the smile vanished. It was for a good reason he had isolated himself. Maybe he should have done more..?

"Merlin. Don't." Leon's quiet voice coming from behind him made Merlin jump as he twisted his head around. The knight was leaning against a tree, arms folded but with one hand resting atop his sword, his fingers looking like they were itching to use it. Judging by his stance, he had been there a while. Merlin thought he knew what had the man so on edge though. Out of all the battles he had ever ridden in to, Leon had been the one consistent thing.

But even he was looking out of his depth here. As the man's eyes flickered to Arthur, Merlin knew why. The burn would have kept Arthur awake all night, and Merlin suddenly felt a stab of guilt that he hadn't tried to stay awake with him for some of it. Although considering the last thing he could remember was Gaius forcing a bottle into his hand, he somehow knew that he wouldn't have had a choice in the matter. So instead of explaining properly about what he believed the burn to do, he had slept. Meaning that his friends had been forced to watch it flare into life at regular intervals, keeping Arthur conscious. No wonder Leon was looking out of his depth.

"Don't you dare blame yourself for what happened here. You found the prince, no matter how long it took. You didn't give up." Just like that, Merlin knew what the underlying problem was. If Arthur had died, Leon would have known how to react. Instead, he was now left with a broken prince and having to explain to the King why the patrols didn't find him sooner.

"He'll be alright." Merlin's words sounded forced even to himself, but as he glanced over at Arthur, who was watching the exchange cautiously, Merlin did indeed feel a flicker of hope. There had been the original spark when he realised he had found Arthur, but on seeing the conditions and treatment he had undergone, that spark had been well and truly extinguished. But now, now Merlin was beginning to believe there may yet be hope. There was certainly something other than fear alight in Arthur's eyes now.

Struck by an idea, Merlin put his platter back on the ground, pushing it towards the prince. For a split second, Arthur looked like he was considering it, but then he pulled away, wrapping his arms around himself. Merlin merely sighed. One step at a time.

"Gaius? Do you think I could...could talk to you?" Gaius seemed to understand that Merlin meant in private. Or more specifically, away from the hearing of those who may be less than favourable about what he needed to talk about. Letting Gaius lead the way into an open space just outside of their clearing, Merlin sat down, his hands gripping his knees.

"Gaius, it's the burn. I don't know how to get it off him." Merlin knew there was no point in trying to soften the matter. Not when he knew that he needed to get back to Arthur was quickly as possible.

"What do you think it does?" Gaius was frowning in contemplation, his mind clearly beginning to think through what he knew in order to be able to make suggestions to the young warlock.

"I think it keeps him alive." Merlin responded bluntly. "He doesn't drink, doesn't eat and doesn't sleep. Every time he goes to lose consciousness, it brings him back again."

"Don't touch it!" Merlin blinked at the sharp tone in Gaius's voice before the physician seemed to regain some of his composure and smiled apologetically at the warlock. "I'm sorry, Merlin, it's just, if you try and remove it, you'll kill him." Gaius was glad Merlin was sitting down at the news, for the colour drained from his face. Gaius had no idea that it was only because of Arthur's injuries that had stopped Merlin from removing it, he just hadn't had the chance.

"W...what?"

"He needs to regain some of his strength. You say he hasn't eaten or drunk? If this has been going on for his whole disappearance, it is going to take a while before he can stomach it himself again. He won't be able to hold down the nutrients, and with the burn gone, he'll just disappear. He has to physically regain his strength.

"What about sleep though? He can't do that, it won't let him. I've seen it Gaius, every time he tries, it hurts him."

"You might be able to do something about that..." Gaius mused, looking thoughtful. "If we can build his body back up, let him be able to sustain himself..." Gaius's voice trailed off and the old man was clearly lost in thought. Merlin let him ponder for a moment, before he coughed gently, bringing the physician back into the present.

"What's that got to do with me?" Gaius leant forward, his eyes almost gleaming with excitement.

"If I can give him a sleeping draught, his body should relax. You should use your magic to nullify the pain from the burn. I believe it will die away if it does not rouse him, you said it did nothing against the poison. It's easy, we simply have to get Arthur into a deeper state of unconsciousness, not even the magic will be able to pull him out of that, not if it is battling yours."

"You want me to use magic? On Arthur?" Gaius's face fell a little.

"I know it is asking a lot. But with the draught, his mind won't be thinking straight. Merlin, if this works, it will overcome the magic of the mark; it will be as if _he_has overcome it. There will be no need to remove it completely; no one will ask any questions."

"No." Merlin said flatly, his blood boiling. Everything made sense, apart from one thing. "I won't leave it on him if I can help it. Do you know what the mark signifies, Gaius? I will_not_ leave Arthur branded as a slave, I won't!"

"Merlin..."

"No, Gaius! He deserves better than that, he _is_ better than that. Out of all the things they've done, I won't let that be the lasting mark on him." Merlin found his breath was hitching erratically and he was trying to hold back tears. Arthur had been proud for as long as Merlin had known him. To begin with, Merlin had believed the pride had been about the prince himself, and he had hated the arrogant prat for it. But now he knew that was not the case. Arthur knew he was good, no one could deny him that. But his pride now was for the kingdom that would one day be his. He was proud of his people, of the Knights he had raised from commoners. One thing Merlin was sure about however was that although these thugs had stripped that pride from him, Merlin was going to get it back!

"Merlin." Gaius sighed heavily. "Merlin, some marks can never be removed." He didn't just mean physically, and he knew his ward knew it. Whilst he had feared for the worst, this was beyond what he had been dreading. He knew there was a chance they would never get _their_Arthur back, and Gaius knew that would destroy the warlock more than not knowing where he was. "At least help me try to get him to eat and drink. We have to see whether we can fight off the burn first. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Come on, no doubt you want to be getting back to him?"

Merlin shakily stood up, trying to control his frantic heartbeat. How could someone have done this to the prince? He knew – even after his collapse – that there was still part of his brain that was struggling to process the scenes he had walked in on. Maybe it was the days of trying to nurse Arthur with the prince flinching away at every opportunity? Maybe it was because, unlike the others, he had actually seen what was being done? Part of Merlin knew it was because of his magic. His magic was what had got him into the building, and it was nothing to do with his control of it. For the first time ever, his magic had made him welcome rather than an outcast. Everything about the whole situation was wrong.

As Gaius set off back into the clearing, Merlin shuffled his feet. "Gaius? I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."

"I know, Merlin." With those simple words, Gaius led the way back into the clearing. Merlin immediately ran over to Arthur. The prince was curled on his side again, and as his servant approached, Merlin frowned.

"Gaius, he's shivering. Can't you do anything?"

"Stoke up the fire. I can't cover him with anything, there are still too many open wounds." Merlin knew what he was trying to say. Even Gaius hadn't brought it enough supplies, not considering they would be stuck here for a few more days until Arthur had healed enough to even contemplate travelling. Everything spare they had would be needed to re-dress the more severe of the wounds.

"And try to get him to drink this." Gaius handed Merlin a small goblet. One glance inside showed it was only water, but Merlin suddenly felt nervous. He had managed to avoid being seen as a threat in Arthur's eyes, always backing away whenever the prince reacted to him. Merlin knew it was selfish, but he would rather someone else do it. Before he could voice his opinion, he caught Gaius' eye. The physician jerked his head towards where Arthur was curled up, and Merlin followed his gaze. Arthur was still watching him.

Sighing, Merlin made a show of taking a long draught from the goblet. It was the only thing he could think of doing. Now he knew why Gaius had brought the goblet rather than the normal water skins. It was obvious to everyone what was in it. Stretching out his hand, he offered it to the prince. He was fully expecting Arthur to jerk away, so when a hand unfolded itself from his body, Merlin grinned. He reached out a little further, but left enough distance so Arthur would have to come to him. He didn't want to crowd the prince.

A shaking hand brushed momentarily against his as Merlin gave up the hold on the cup. Arthur's hand couldn't support the weight of it and it immediately clunked against the floor. Luckily, it stayed upright, for the prince's hand had barely been hovering against the ground as it was. Merlin bit his lip, but stayed where he was.

Arthur's eyes were burning in something that Merlin would have once said was concentration. He knew the whole clearing was watching, he could almost feel it hold its breath as Arthur managed to drag the goblet towards him. Merlin wanted to see the look on their faces, but he didn't tear his eyes away from the prince, scared it would be a dream if he so much as blinked.

Someone – Merlin wasn't sure who – sucked in an audibly breath as Arthur brought the cup to a stop next to his lips. He glanced back at Merlin, who smiled reassuringly. Very, very slowly, he tilted the goblet slightly, letting the base still rest on the ground. Merlin thought he would burst with impatience as Arthur's lips closed around the top. It was as if time stopped the moment the water touched Arthur's lips.

Although the burn had kept him alive through the lack of fluid, it had done nothing to quench the burning thirst. As with his injuries, it had numbed it enough to keep him sane, but now Arthur was feeling something cool, soothing and wet against his lips, he couldn't stop himself. One sip was taken tentatively, and then suddenly, Arthur was trying to gulp the rest.

"Merlin, stop him!" Gaius yelled, beginning to hurry forward as fast as his aged body would allow. The Knights sprung into action, all beginning to run towards the pair, but Merlin just lunged, knocking the cup away from Arthur with his elbow. By the time he had pushed himself into an upright position again, Arthur had scrambled away. He had yet to stand, but had managed to move a reasonable distance. Once more, his knees were drawn up to his chest and he wrapped his arms around them. Merlin had come to realise it was the same as when he had curled up by the fire. It was Arthur trying to make himself as small as possible, and it all but broke Merlin's heart every time he saw it. Arthur's eyes were wide and terrified as he shrunk back into himself at the sudden movement.

"Gaius, what's going on?" Elyan eventually called when silence once again fell over the clearing. Gaius sighed.

"I didn't realise he would actually feel the thirst. Rand, am I right in thinking that is the first time he has drunk something himself?"

Rand nodded. "For as long as I've known him."

"Gaius, what?"

"Give it a minute." The physician's eyes were locked on Arthur, and he was taking small steps towards the prince. It was obvious to Merlin he was trying to get as close as possible without Arthur realising he was there. Merlin realised what was about to happen and also began to approach his friend. He had just got into the distance where Arthur would normally shrink back when it happened. Everything Arthur had just gulped down came rushing back up again.

Merlin was by his side in a second, forcing him over onto his hands and knees as Arthur vomited. Gaius was directly behind him. Finally, the prince all but collapsed into a trembling wreck. Gaius took one look at Merlin and moved away. The warlock brushed Arthur's hair away from his forehead with the back of his hand. Arthur's eyes were glazed and dull, and Merlin knew his master had had enough of this.

"It will get better." He whispered, wondering if he was making promises that he couldn't keep. He had been so encouraged when Arthur showed some sign of wanting to drink; he could only hope this wouldn't put him off. If what Gaius had been saying was true, they needed Arthur to try and regain some of his strength. But whilst they could treat his wounds using force, Merlin knew this was something Arthur had to want for himself.

He wasn't sure how long he stayed sitting with Arthur, but a gentle touch on his arm made him jump, looking around to see Lancelot standing over him. The Knight caught his gaze and smiled reassuringly, gesturing for Rand to come over. Arthur had zoned out, he didn't seem to notice.

"Rand will sit with him. We need to talk to you." Merlin couldn't deny the flicker of doubt and uncertainty shoot through him at Lancelot's words. Or more specifically, his tone. His voice was cool, not his usual friendliness. Merlin nodded reluctantly, allowing himself to be pulled away from Arthur.

Merlin found himself back in the clearing he had been in with Gaius. But they weren't alone. Gwaine and Percival were already there.

"Merlin, we're going in." Gwaine said bluntly, his hand already resting on his sword. Merlin blinked at him.

"We have to make sure they won't come after him again," Lancelot added quietly, sounding more like his old self. "And we want you with us, you deserve to the peace of mind of knowing this is over."

Merlin couldn't help but smile, a flicker of power running through him as Emrys stirred. The men in that building had destroyed Arthur. It was all Merlin could do to make sure it would never happen again.

"Count me in."


	9. Chapter 9

***Is so overwhelmed by the reviews she really doesn't know what to say* Thank you all so so much, it completely makes my day to know people are enjoying this, thank you. I'm writing as fast as I can with it, promise!**

"Merlin, you can't go in there."

"Gaius, please, just hear me out." Merlin and Gaius were back in the clearing, the physician furious that Merlin was even contemplating going back in considering the destruction he had both witnessed and caused the time before. "I don't know what I did; it was like it wasn't me. There could still be sorcerers in there; I can't let them go in unprotected. And they saw what I did, Gaius. The chances are they won't try and fight back."

"So you are going to use your magic as a weapon of fear?" Merlin kicked out at a tree log in pure frustration. He knew what this looked like. He was going back into the place he had destroyed, and was going to stop anyone still left alive. Considering the state the prince was in, part of Merlin was simply screaming for revenge. But that wasn't who he was.

"No. Gaius, you have to understand. Lancelot! Gwaine! I can't let them go in there unprotected."

"And what about Arthur, Merlin? He needs you here. He has just made the first step towards progress and you are going to leave him again. Who will protect him?"

"Leon is still here. And Percival is staying as well. Not to mention Rand, he saved Arthur's life, Gaius."

Gaius sighed, resting his hand on Merlin's shoulder. He could almost feel the power the boy was struggling to hold back. All of them were furious about what they had discovered, but if Merlin lashed out in the way the rest of them wanted too, it would be catastrophic.

"Merlin, I know Rand was there for Arthur, but even so..."

"No, you don't understand." Merlin sighed heavily, sitting down on the fallen log he had just kicked, resting his head in his hands and sighing heavily. "He literally saved his life. They had poisoned him, Gaius. Nothing I did worked, he was dying. Then Rand appeared, he had the antidote. I nearly tried to stop him; I thought he was going to hurt Arthur. If he hadn't appeared when he did, Arthur wouldn't be alive. I would have got him out only to have him die then."

"He will get better, Merlin. You just have to give him time."

"I _know_. But Gaius, I can't let them get hurt." Gaius seemed to realise he was fighting a losing battle against his ward here. He could only hope Merlin's sense of wanting to protect his friends was indeed strong enough to overcome any anger he might be feeling at going back into the place. The last thing the physician wanted was for them to finally find Arthur, only for Merlin to lose himself in the process.

"He needs you, my boy. Make sure _you_ come back. No matter what happens, remember who you are." With those words, Gaius stood up and walked off. It didn't matter what else he said, Merlin clearly had it in his head that he was going, and Gaius didn't want to antagonise the man any further, things were already hard enough. He knew he just had to hope that Merlin remembered all the values he held true when faced with Arthur's nightmare.

Merlin watched him go, feeling incredibly guilty about putting the old man through those thoughts in the first place. But he had to make sure this was ended. If he didn't see it for himself, then how could he attempt to reassure Arthur? He gave Gaius a moment to get back to the others before standing up and following him.

Lancelot, Elyan and Gwaine were talking quietly to Percival and Leon; all five of them looking more serious than Merlin had ever seen his normally carefree friends. It showed how much they had come to respect and value Arthur as a person rather than just a prince. They were doing this for him, not out of a sense of duty for the Crown Prince. Merlin picked up enough to know they were talking about strategies and scenarios.

Merlin knew that even if he did join them, he would not understand what they were talking about anyway. Gwaine would fill him in on anything that he genuinely needed to know. Instead, he headed back over to Arthur. Rand backed off a few paces as Merlin approached, and the warlock nodded his head in gratitude. Rand had certainly stayed true to his word about not telling anyone what Merlin could do, something Merlin appreciated more than there were words to stay.

"Arthur?" Crouching down by the prince, Merlin sighed when he saw Arthur was curled up into a ball again. They just didn't seem to be getting anywhere. When he could have time on his own to think about the best way to help the prince, Merlin knew what he would do. He would call Kilgarrah again. The Dragon may not have been able to assist when it came to finding the prince, but surely he had some sort of spell that would help Arthur recover. He had healed Morgana, after all. Surely he would do something for the man he had always claimed was the Once and Future King. He _had_ to if he wanted their destiny to survive the way he had always said.

"Arthur, I have to go for a little bit. You'll be safe here, I promise. Gaius is going to stay with you, and Rand. You trust them, I know you do. I won't be long, I promise."

"Merlin?" Glancing over his shoulder at Lancelot, Merlin nodded. They were ready to go. It was time. He smiled gently at Arthur.

"You'll be safe, I promise." He brushed Arthur's hair back, letting his hand linger on the top of Arthur's head. It was the only contact the prince allowed without flinching away, possibly because he knew there was nothing threatening about it. After a moment, Merlin made to rise to his feet, intending to join the others.

Only to be yanked to a stop. Not that the grip was hard, just Merlin wasn't expecting it. Glancing down, he felt his mouth literally drop open. Arthur's fist was scrunched into the bottom of Merlin's shirt, preventing him from moving. Merlin's gasp was heard by the entire area and everyone immediately stilled, moving slightly closer to see what would happen.

Arthur wasn't looking at Merlin; he was still staring into the depths of the fire, his eyes reflecting the flickering flames. But Merlin knew him better than that. The prince was fully aware of what had just been said to him, and if Merlin wasn't mistaken, was trying to stop Merlin going. It seemed understandable; Merlin had been with him ever since he had been freed. But somehow, Merlin knew it was more than that.

It wasn't Merlin leaving that had Arthur reacting. After all, the warlock had left the clearing numerous times since the rest of the Knights had arrived. Something told Merlin it was because of where he was going. Arthur was aware of what was going on around him, and was trying to stop his friend going into the place where he had been tortured for eight months. Tears stung at Merlin's eyes as he carefully folded his hand over Arthur's one.

"Merlin, you don't have to come. Stay here with him." Gwaine's voice was so quiet, and so _unlike_ Gwaine, Merlin didn't know what to do. Arthur was reacting to him and the situation around him. For the first time in days, the prince was fully aware of what was going on around him, no one could deny it. Merlin wanted to stay with him, to make sure that they could carry on helping him. But at the same time, he couldn't let them walk into a building potential full of angry sorcerers. He couldn't save Arthur at the cost of everyone else.

"I'm coming. Just...give me a minute?" Gwaine nodded and instantly backed off, grabbing Elyan by the arm and dragging him back as well. The rest of the Knights followed their lead and also backed away, although Merlin knew their eyes were still on the pair.

"Arthur, it's okay. It's safe there now." He knew that was a lie, but he wasn't about to tell the prince that they had no idea what they were about to walk into. "Everything is going to be okay. We'll be able to take you home. But we have to do this, Arthur, you know we do."

Arthur's grip tightened and Merlin felt his breath catch as his eyes swivelled to meet Merlin's. They were so full of fear; it only fuelled Merlin's anger of getting into that building. This was not the prince that had set off on a hunting trip.

"Everything is going to be alright, Arthur, I promise. We'll be back before you know it." Arthur's expression barely changed, but Merlin could pick up enough. For a moment, he was pleading with Merlin not to go. But then something changed. It was almost as if he was accepting it needed to be done, a flash of the true prince. Arthur would have never left an area without making sure it was secure, it was something he had drilled into his men. The Knights knew this, and it seemed as if there was a part of Arthur accepting what they had to do. The pleading expression slowly faded to one of acceptance, but he still didn't let go of Merlin's shirt.

"Give him something." Gaius's voice made Merlin jump; he hadn't heard the physician approach. Understanding what he was getting at, he slowly unfastened his neckerchief, keeping eye contact with Arthur at all times. Gently, but firmly, he prised Arthur's hand away from his shirt, hating the fact he had been able to do it so easily. But the second he had forced Arthur to let go, he pressed his scarf into the prince's hand. Immediately, Arthur's fist closed around it, his knuckles almost turning white in the effort.

"I'll be back, I swear it." Merlin whispered, finally standing up and quickly backing away, although his eyes didn't leave Arthur's face. The prince watched him go; gazing at him in the same intensity Merlin was watching him.

"You don't have to, mate." Merlin had reached Gwaine now, and the young Knight clapped him on the shoulder sympathetically, eyes blazing at seeing how destroyed Arthur was. Merlin followed his gaze.

"Yes, I do." Gwaine seemed to understand what he was trying to say, and said no more on the matter, instead gesturing for Merlin to lead the way. Merlin reached the edge of the clearing and locked eyes with Arthur one last time, nodding his head softly. Arthur blinked in response, causing the warlock to smile. At least he was getting some response out of the man.

Merlin let the rest of them lead the way once he had pointed them in the right direction, his mind dwelling on Arthur. Were they finally getting somewhere? Merlin knew the others wouldn't have been able to read Arthur's expression in the way Merlin could, and the warlock knew he had seen a flicker of the true Arthur there. He just hoped they could continue to get that back.

"Nice place." Gwaine said sarcastically, breaking the silence and making Merlin jump. They were here. Merlin's fists instantly clenched and the muscle in his cheek throbbed as he tried to stop his magic lashing out. They picked their way silently into it, where Elyan suddenly came to a stop, Gwaine almost crashing into him in the process.

"What the hell happened?" Gwaine demanded, staring about him in disbelief. Merlin slowly forced himself to look. It was as he feared. Bodies lay everywhere. Some were clearly still alive, he could see them breathing. But others obviously weren't, the position they were lying in made that obvious. He had done it. He had destroyed them.

"Well, they had sorcerers, didn't they? Probably got into a fight when Merlin got the prince out." Lancelot's voice cut through the horrified silence, and Merlin felt a hand squeeze his shoulder reassuringly. He swallowed hard. Lancelot knew. Somehow, his old friend knew precisely why Merlin had gone pale and why the place was in ruins. Merlin just hoped the noble-hearted man wouldn't hate him for killing this people without even thinking about what he was doing.

"Let's split up," Elyan muttered, causing Merlin to let out an almost audible sigh of relief. He didn't want to have to see the look on their faces as they saw more and more of the destruction he had unwittingly caused.

"Let's do pairs," Lancelot immediately counter-acted. "It might not be safe. Gwaine, Elyan, you go that way." With a nod of his head, Lancelot sent his two fellow Knights in the opposite direction, before once more placing his hand on Merlin's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"I didn't mean to, I swear." Tears were stinging Merlin's eyes as he glanced around him. It wasn't shame at what he had done as such, he had seen firsthand how they had been treating Arthur, and he knew that should he had done anything any different, he would be dead and Arthur still in captivity. It was just the ease in which he had ripped life away, and not even noticed he had done it.

"Merlin, look at me." It took Lancelot a few attempts before the younger man finally had the courage to lift his eyes and look the knight in the eye. Immediately, Lancelot felt a stab of anger go through him. Not only had they tortured the prince – to within an inch of his life if the injuries Arthur had were anything to go by – they had reduced his friend to someone that almost seemed scared of himself. "You were only trying to protect Arthur, and your magic was trying to protect you both."

"But Lancelot, look," Merlin broke off, waving a hand around him in distress, not helped as one of the more lucky bandits let out a feeble moan at the same time. "Look what I did!"

"It's no different to me doing this." Merlin blinked as Lancelot strode over to the stirring bandit, drew back his fist and punched the man, hard. Straightening up again, Lancelot turned too quickly to be able to hide his wince as he nursed his hand slightly, nor the fact that he was breathing heavily.

"Come on, before we both tear this place to pieces." Feeling slightly more comfortable with himself now that Lancelot had shown it wasn't his magic making him react violently, Merlin moved off slightly. It was his emotions, the bonds of friendship and seeing how these people had tried to destroy that. Despite not feeling it to the same extent, it was the same emotions that had Lancelot lashing out now.

Lancelot followed in silence, just trusting that Merlin knew where he wanted to go. For his part, Merlin did. He wanted a proper look at the cell he knew the prince would have spent the vast majority of the eight months in. He wanted to be able to understand what had driven the man he respected and knew would one day be a great King to the shadow he was now. He felt as if he was seeing the corridors for the first time now, not with the magic controlling him as it had been last time.

It was dark and cold, the stone walls damp to the touch as Merlin let his hand trail along as he walked. He had never considering stones before. But now, shivering slightly, he realised how warm Camelot was. The stones there, whilst may have been cool, somehow seemed to echo strength and unity. Here, he just felt alone.

"Can we make this quick?" Lancelot muttered, and Merlin knew he was thinking the same thing. There was certainly something chilling about this place, although whether it was just because they had seen the result of what had emerged.

"It's this way." Why he felt the need to whisper, Merlin didn't know. He had sent a trickle of magic ahead, confirming there was no threat waiting for them. He just hoped that Gwaine and Elyan were as lucky. Stretching out a shaking hand, he gently pushed open the door and stepped through into Arthur's hell, barely aware Lancelot was on his heels.

For a moment, it was as if he had forgotten how to breathe. He hadn't taken in his surroundings when he was last in here, and one look at the cold bar resting on the floor from where he had pulled it away from Arthur, Merlin felt his knees give way. Lancelot's hand rested in the middle of his back, calming and grounding, but fury was pounding from him as he followed Merlin's gaze. He knew what that was.

"They didn't?"

"They did." Merlin whispered; his voice cracking. Forcing his head up, he looked around. He owed that to Arthur. The room was small, Merlin knew should he stretch out, his feet would be touching the opposite wall. A set of manacles hung from the wall, and Merlin's keen eyesight picked out the smears of red around them. The whole place echoed the methods they had used to keep the prince subdued – the chains, the leather restraints Merlin had pulled off him. Over in one corner, a cruel looking club had a whip curled around it. The room was cold to the extent Merlin found himself shivering – and yet that was fully clothed. Arthur had been naked when he found him. How could he have stood it?

Shakily pushing himself upright again, Merlin stood, leaning gratefully on Lancelot's offered arm. One look at the walls had his stomach churning. Blood. He knew it was Arthur's blood.

"How the hell is he alive?" Merlin had no answer to his friend's horrified whisper. He should have found Arthur quicker!

Merlin didn't even realise he was looking for something as he turned slowly on the spot, eyes scanning every inch of the room. But he suddenly let out a gasp of pure terror and fury.

"Merlin? What is it, what's wrong?" Lancelot's hand had drifted to his sword, but he couldn't see what was wrong, the room was empty. That, apparently, was the problem.

"Dunran's gone!"

"Who?"

"The one who did it." He knew Lancelot wouldn't ask for clarification, not after having seen the bar. He knew what Merlin was getting at.

"We have to get back to Arthur, _now_." Grabbing Merlin's arm, he pulled the warlock from the room, shouting for Gwaine and Elyan as they ran back through the building. The others joined them just outside, but before they could ask anything, Merlin had set off at a run.

He should have never left Arthur.


	10. Chapter 10

**Another huge thank you once again.**

**Warning: Just got a new job with shifts that I'm trying to get used to, updates may be a bit slower at the moment. Don't worry, they will still be coming though! **

"Just a little bit? Just for me?" Gaius' voice had taken on a tone he hadn't used in many years as he crouched in front of Arthur, desperately trying to tempt the prince into drinking once again. He meant what he had said to Merlin, if they could get Arthur to regain some of his strength, the physician truly believed the power of the burn would subside.

But Arthur wasn't even looking at him. His expression had closed down as soon as Merlin had left, something in him seeming to realise the servant wouldn't be returning for some time. Gaius had tried, he really had. But although the prince had permitted him to check the dressings over his back, he hadn't reacted to anything else. Percival was standing at one edge of the clearing, his sword in his hand as he gazed into the forest surrounding them, an unmoving pillar of strength. Even if it didn't reassure Arthur, Gaius was feeling far more comfortable having the man protecting them. Leon was mirroring his position on the other side, gazing down the path the missing members of their party had disappeared down. Gaius could sense the man sending concerned gazes over his shoulder every few minutes.

The physician couldn't blame him though. Merlin aside, Leon knew Arthur the most out of everyone here. He had seen Arthur at both his strongest moments, and his weakest. And the Knight had been there for the young man every step of the way. Seeing him this destroyed with nothing there to physically hit in order to drive Arthur's demons away was killing the man.

Sighing, Gaius made to move away. It was clear Arthur was not going to attempt anything without Merlin there. Whilst he was glad that his ward managed to get some reaction from the man, Gaius was worried. The King certainly wasn't going to take it well that his once proud heir was only reacting to a servant. But still, Gaius knew they would just have to cross that bridge when they came to it. The first thing they had to worry about was getting Arthur fit to travel. But before he could back away, Arthur flinched.

Immediately, Gaius was crouching back down by him.

"Arthur? What is it?" He knew he wouldn't get a verbal reaction, for still not a sound had crossed Arthur's lips. But in the hours he had spent over the last few days monitoring Arthur for the slightest reaction, he knew he would be able to read enough in Arthur's eyes to be able to take at least a guess at what had him reacting. Arthur almost seemed to be shaking, his hand clutching around Merlin's neckerchief with desperation, his eyes locked on something behind the physician.

Glancing over his shoulder, Gaius frowned.

"It's just Rand, Arthur. You know, he helped save you. There is nothing to fear, you are safe. Relax for me, my prince. You must relax. You are safe."

"How wrong you are, old man." Gaius' head jerked up just in time to see Leon suddenly fly across the clearing, hitting a tree on the opposite side and sliding down, motionless.

"Gaius!" Percival's shout was mirrored by his thundering footsteps as he tore across the clearing. Within only seconds, he was standing over Arthur, his posture showing that he was ready to die to protect Arthur.

"How noble." The voice sounded again, only this time from the other end of the clearing, causing the two alert men to frantically gaze in that direction instead. Gaius flinched as he felt the rush of dark magic spreading throughout the area. Percival didn't seem to notice in the same way, before he too suddenly collapsed, narrowly missing falling on Arthur. Gaius immediately reacted, his hands flying as he sought out the pulse of the man. He was still alive, but his heartbeat was far too shallow and erratic for Gaius to be happy with. Leaving one hand resting against Percival's neck, Gaius glanced around him.

He didn't have to search long before a tall, wiry man stepped out from the shadows, his face twisted in an evil leer that sent shudders down the physician's spine. His eyes were sunken deep into their sockets, leaving him with a haunted appearance even though it was obvious he was glancing between Percival and Leon in satisfaction.

"They don't do their reputation much good, do they?" He asked conversationally. Gaius wasn't paying any attention to the man however. Instead, he was focused purely on Arthur. To say the prince had reacted to the man would have been an understatement, but it left Gaius with a clear view on just how the royal had been dealing with this for eight months. Everything in him went rigid to the point Gaius could see his knuckles turning white as his fingers dug through Merlin's scarf and into his palm on the other side. He was refusing to look anywhere in the vague direction of the stranger, but tremors were running up and down his body. Gaius knew this was one of the prince's tormenters, and an anger he had not felt for years sparked into life as he drew himself to his feet.

"I don't know who you are, but I suggest you leave. More Knights are on their way as we speak." He just hoped Merlin would know something was wrong.

"Oh how rude of me. I'm Dunran. Old friend of the prince's there, didn't he tell you? Oh wait, I forgot, he wouldn't have..." As Dunran's voice trailed off, Gaius found himself taking a step forward, pure hatred leaking out of him to such an extent that if he had stopped to think about it, the physician would have scared himself with how powerful the emotion was. Dunran, however, did not seem to be impressed.

"Rand? Deal with them." Gaius stopped, shock crashing over him as the young man he had taken into his care got slowly to his feet, looking uncomfortable but nodding all the same. Gaius stepped protectively in front of Arthur, shielding Percival at the same time.

"Don't be so gallant, old man, there is no reason for you to die as well." Gaius ignored Dunran though as Rand stepped forward slightly hesitantly.

"Rand, what are you doing? You've been helping look after Arthur, you've been helping him for months?"

"You actually bought that?" Dunran's cold laugh made Gaius shut his eyes in resignation. "I'd contemplate giving you your freedom for spinning that yarn, Randolph."

"You're a slave?"

"He's _my _slave," Dunran beckoned Rand over with a jerk of his finger, and the young man scurried over and threw himself at the sorcerer's feet. Dunran's hand stroked his hair gently. "And he has done well."

"What have you done?"

"Got my prize back. Well done, Rand." He continued to stroke Rand's hair, and Gaius felt sickened by the way the young man leaned into the touch, a satisfied smile on his face.

"Everything you told Merlin was a lie." He spat, anger pounding through him. They had tried to leave Rand alone with Arthur, believing that the man would be able to help get through to him. No wonder Arthur was still having trouble adjusting to their presence.

"No, it was all true." Dunran responded silkily, handing Rand something that was obscured in his hand. Gaius didn't know what it was, and at this moment in time, he didn't care. "Rand was imprisoned with the brat there. Until we broke him, not long after the prince arrived. Arthur did tell those stories, did try to protect Rand. For a week. Ever since then, you have been my loyal slave, haven't you?"

Rand pressed himself closer to Dunran, glancing up at his master. It was clear he was asking some sort of question, for Dunran suddenly nodded and Rand jumped to his feet. Before Gaius could comprehend what was happening, he found that he had been pulled fiercely away from Arthur and pushed against one of the nearby trees. Rand forced him into a sitting position before tying the old man's hands.

"What are you going to do?" Gaius was reasonably proud of how steady his voice was, but inside, he was terrified. It had taken the group days to get Arthur to begin to respond to them, this could so easily set them back again. But with both Percival and Leon out cold and the others nowhere near, the physician had no idea how they were going to get out of this one.

Dunran didn't verbally answer, but instead strode over to the prince. Gaius wasn't sure if he was relieved or not to see Arthur had pushed himself away. It was a sign that he was regaining enough of his strength in order to be able to fight back, but judging by the leer on Dunran's face, Gaius wasn't sure that was a good thing.

Arthur had barely been able to move more than a pace or so before Dunran was upon him. In one movement, the sorcerer had pulled his belt away, bending down and tying Arthur's hands in front of him with it as he forced the neckerchief Arthur was still clutching out of the prince's hand. Whilst the action itself caused Gaius to growl angrily, that wasn't what had the sheer horror pulsing through him. It was Arthur's reaction to Dunran removing his belt, and in that one look of utter helplessness that crossed the prince's face, Gaius knew who was responsible for just how torn up the once confident prince was.

Dunran used his foot to roll Arthur, trapping the prince's hands underneath him before grabbing onto his shoulder and pulling him to his feet.

"Rand, guard the old man. If those two should stir, or the boy turns up, you know what to do."

"Yes, Master!" Rand exclaimed, almost excitedly as he sat down in front of Gaius. The boy's eyes were gleaming, and Gaius felt sickened when he realised just how much of a hold Dunran had over him.

"Leave him alone!" Gaius cried as Dunran strode to the edge of the clearing, pulling Arthur with him. "Please! Just leave him alone!"

His desperate plea only caused Dunran to pause, grabbing hold of Arthur's chin and forcing the prince to look towards the physician as the sorcerer whispered something in his ear. Gaius had no idea what was said, but he knew Arthur didn't believe it as the man refused to look away. His expression broke the physician's heart, pleading for the old man to do something to help him. Gaius tried to get to his feet, but Rand quickly and swiftly forced him back down again. The physician could only watch in desperation as Arthur was dragged out of sight.

"Come back, Merlin." He whispered under his breath, sending a silent prayer that his ward would somehow be on his way back.

Gaius wasn't the only one wanting Merlin. Arthur struggled weakly against the bruising grip on his upper arm, but he was no match for Dunran's strength. The man didn't walk very far before unceremoniously throwing Arthur to the floor in front of him. The prince immediately tried to rise. The few days away from being tormented every day had certainly done him wonders, even if the others had yet to see it in him. He was not going to simply take this.

But Dunran merely placed his foot on Arthur's stomach, leaving the young man completely pinned to the floor, blinking back tears as his back flared into life. Unlike before, although it hurt, the burn wasn't needed. The wounds had finally begun to heal enough in order for Arthur to stay focused. Instead, he concentrated on getting his breathing back under control as he watched Dunran pull a length of rope out of a deep pocket.

As the man swung it with ease up into the tree, Arthur swallowed hard. He knew this was not going to end well as Dunran caught the falling end with ease. He created a loop, holding onto both ends of the rope as he approached Arthur. In one swift movement, he had jerked the belt away from the royal's hands and dropped the loop over them, tugging on the rope to pull them tight. Satisfied Arthur couldn't get away, he slowly but surely began pulling on the other end of the rope. It almost worked as a pulley, and within seconds, Arthur was forced onto his knees as the rope continued to move.

Dunran didn't stop there though, instead beginning to walk slowly backwards, drawing the prince up further. He didn't even stop when Arthur was standing, taking it back that little bit more. By the time he tied the rope off against another tree, Arthur was on tip-toes, his wrists burning as the rope took nearly all of his weight. He tried pulling against the bonds, his hands twisting desperately as he tried to slip them from the ropes.

If Dunran noticed, he didn't say anything, instead opting to watch Arthur struggle. After a few moments, he walked back over to the prince, drawing out a knife as he did so. Arthur froze, but the twisted man simply cut the bandages swaddling his back away.

"Someone's healing nicely. Tut tut, we can't have that. But that will just have to wait, we have more pressing matters to deal with. Did you know you had been sold, you royal brat? But you denied your new master his first night with you. Now that's just not allowed. He's coming here, soon. Nice reward for delivering the prince."

Arthur tried not to shudder as Dunran ran his hands over the prince's shoulders, fingers digging in tightly in something that almost resembled a cruel caress.

"And you know what he told me?" Dunran's breath was hot in Arthur's ear, and the prince tried to turn away, only to have the sorcerer grab his hair, holding his head still. "He told me I could have you any way I wanted as long as you were alive when he arrived at sundown. And oh look, we have an hour or so."

Drawing back, Dunran kept his hand fisted in Arthur's hair before slamming him against the tree. Immediately, hot blood trickled down from his forehead and Arthur felt his arms take even more of his weight as his legs gave way slightly at the dizziness. Once again though, not a sound escaped him, barriers being thrown back into place to allow him to avoid the torment he was sure Dunran was about to throw at him.

Sure enough, the man's hands left Arthur's shoulders, instead tugging at the breeches someone had put on the royal. Despite the fact Arthur was struggling more violently, the man simply lifted Arthur's legs, causing the prince to suck in a sharp breath as he found himself literally hanging from the tree, the trousers being torn off completely. Dunran pressed himself against Arthur's back, and the prince squeezing his eyes shut as he felt the man's hard length pressing against him even through his own clothes.

"And you know what we can do in an hour?" Dunran's voice was soft and Arthur jerked away in horror when the man's hand closed around his own member. Twisting his shoulders, he tried to pull himself away, but Dunran rested his hand against the back of Arthur's neck, holding him still. Thankfully, the man's hand let go, but Arthur felt a sob rising inside of him when he felt the sorcerer's hand fiddling with his own breeches.

Dunran was forced to hold Arthur tighter as the prince fought back harder. When a flying foot jerked the man's knees from under him, Dunran snarled. In one movement, he slammed his whole weight into the prince, pinning him completely against the tree. He was breathing heavily as his hand fondled his cock, lining himself up against the frantically squirming prince.

"You are going to regret that, blondie." Arthur was trembling violently as he felt rough hands parting his arse cheeks, something hard probing them. He didn't stop struggling, losing self control as tears slid hot and fast down his cheeks from under closed eyelids. He truly thought he had been safe.

Although something was nudging against his torn and abused entrance, nothing else happened. After what felt like a lifetime, the pressure disappeared and Arthur finally plucked up the courage to open his eyes, turning his head.

He was not expecting the sight that greeted him. Gwaine had his sword at Dunran's throat, fury pounding out of him in a way Arthur had never witnessed from the man. Even as he watched, Lancelot swung his sword at the taut rope binding Arthur, and the prince's legs gave way as the tension holding him up was suddenly released. Lancelot made to move over to free him completely, but found his attention was drawn by Dunran.

Gwaine had backed him into a tree, his hand clearly resisting running the man through there and then. It was almost as if he was waiting for something. But Dunran didn't look the slightest bit concerned, and that was what had Lancelot hurrying over.

"He's a tight little whore, isn't he?" Dunran grinned manically as he suddenly found himself with two swords at his throat.

"He is your prince and future King." Lancelot snarled, glancing out of the corner of his eye at Arthur's trembling form. Worry coursed through him about what the latest attack could have done to the man.

"If he lives that long." Dunran responded smoothly. Only Arthur saw his hand making strange jerking movements at his side, and even as the prince moved to try and warn the two, both Lancelot and Gwaine were suddenly lifted into the air. Both men almost simultaneously dropped their swords, trading confused and fearful glances as they struggled to draw in a breath. For a moment, they fought against the spell furiously. Gwaine was the first to lose consciousness, although Lancelot was barely a second behind him.

Arthur found himself crawling across the clearing, his bound hands making it easier said than done. His push was weak in comparison to what he would have been otherwise able to achieve, and although he was immediately backhanded sharply, Dunran's concentration broke and both Knights fell to the ground with muffled thuds.

"You stupid brat," Dunran snarled, drawing his fist back and punching Arthur squarely on the chin, sending his head snapping to the side, his body following. Blows continued to rein down on the unprotected prince, before a quiet yet determined voice cut through the clearing.

"Get away from him. _Now._" His arms had wrapped around his stomach as he tried to protect himself, but Arthur found himself uncurling slightly at the voice. If he had thought Gwaine had seemed angry, it was nothing compared to what he was getting from the usually calm and soothing man the voice belonged to. He glanced around before his eyes finally rested on a figure standing slightly shakily against a tree at the far end of the clearing they were in. A deep gash ran across his arm, bleeding profusely. But his eyes were livid, and Arthur felt a rush of safety overwhelm him.

Merlin had arrived.


	11. Chapter 11

The four of them sprinted almost silently back towards the camp, all filled with a desperate need to get there and make sure everything was alright. Merlin stumbled slightly as they drew closer to the clearing, sensing that something was wrong.

"Wait!" It wasn't him that spoke, however, but Elyan as he pulled up sharp, flinging his arm out across Gwaine's chest to stop the man. Lancelot grabbed the back of Merlin's shirt, almost unbalancing the young man.

"What is it?" Merlin hissed, wondering what the Knight was sensing. His magic was warning him of something, yet Elyan was clearly picking things up in a different way. Maybe it would provide them with more of a clue as to what they were about to walk in on?

"Percival would have picked this spot to stand guard." Elyan muttered. Gwaine and Lancelot seemed to understand what that meant more than Merlin, for both immediately shifted their weapons into a better grip, eyes darting around anxiously. Realising that there was perhaps danger awaiting them, Merlin let his power fill him up. He too was looking around, but not with his eyes. His magic was telling him something strange about the clearing, but what he was most worried about was the use of dark magic. Someone had been here.

"Now!" Unaware the Knights had been planning around him, Merlin swiftly followed them when he realised they were running straight into the clearing. He stumbled to a stop at the sight in front of him. Gaius was sitting up against the tree, Rand crouched in front of him. But the young man seemed to be almost quivering with excitement, and Merlin knew something was very wrong with him. He could just make out the edge of a red cloak to know it was Leon spread against the bottom of another tree, clearly unconscious if his position was anything to go by. Percival too was motionless, almost in the spot Merlin knew Arthur had been in. The prince was nowhere to be seen.

Lancelot and Gwaine seemed to realise this as well. They ran full speed into the clearing. Rand was pushed back and Lancelot quickly freed Gaius, not seeming to realise it was the slave who had been standing guard over the old man as it was. Elyan went to Percival, checking his pulse before turning scared eyes onto Gaius. The physician caught the look, nodded and hurried over.

"There was a man, a sorcerer. Sir Leon has only merely been knocked out, he should be fine. But I'm not sure what he has done to Percival."

"Where's Arthur?" Never had Merlin's voice trembled as much as it did in that moment. Nor did he think he had ever felt so scared. The look in Gaius' eye as he turned to face his ward gave Merlin the answer he had dreaded to here.

"No!" Lancelot shivered at the sheer anguish in Merlin's tone, but was not surprised to see the young man begin to run in the only direction Dunran could have gone. What was surprising, however, was when Rand suddenly leapt up from where he had been crouching, cannoning straight into the unprepared Merlin and sending them both toppling to the ground in a tangle of limbs.

"Find Arthur!" Merlin roared, trying to throw Rand off him. He was vaguely aware of Lancelot and Gwaine sprinting off. He didn't even care where Elyan was, not anymore. Instead, his eyes flashed gold and Rand was thrown off him. Luck seemed to be on his side, for the remaining conscious Knight was over by Leon, trying to rouse the man with his back to Merlin. He had no idea what was going on.

"Rand, what are you...what are you doing?" What had started off as a curious question turned into a slightly panicked shout as Rand drew a wicked looking dagger, beginning to advance on Merlin again. "What happened to you? You were helping me!"

"He's been broken by Dunran." Merlin swallowed hard as he heard Gaius's shout, automatically backing up as Rand approached him, dagger at the ready. For some reason, hearing that, he just felt a greater desire to help the man, not harm him. If Rand had been broken, it meant he was in no way responsible for his actions, not really.

Merlin's empathy nearly cost him dearly. He hadn't noticed Rand steadily getting closer and closer until a sudden flare of pain across his right arm made him cry out.

"Merlin!"

"I'm fine." It was through gritted teeth the answer was spat out, however, his left hand clenched around the long and deep cut on his arm. He could feel the blood seeping through his fingers and tried to ignore the way the world seemed to spin slightly alarmingly as he forced himself to concentrate. Rand had darted out of reach once he had made the cut, his hand scrabbling for something in his pocket. Almost hypnotised, Merlin found himself watching as the slave pulled out a small phial.

There was something about it that was familiar. As Rand moved, the sunlight caught the bottle and Merlin felt his heart leap in concern. It was almost identical to the bottle that had contained the anti-dote Rand had used to save Arthur. But something told the warlock this was no anti-dote.

Rand meant to poison him.

He had seen how much damage it had inflicted on Arthur, and how his magic had done nothing against it. It would surely kill him. Merlin knew he had no time for sympathy any more, not if he wanted to get out of this alive.

"_Conicio him tergum_!**" **The words slipped fluently from his tongue, and Rand was suddenly blasted backwards off his feet. Technically, Merlin hadn't needed to use words. But he wanted to keep some sort of control over his power; he wouldn't let himself lash out like that.

Elyan chose that moment to look over. Thankfully, all he saw was Rand beginning to struggle to his feet and Merlin leaning somewhat shakily against a tree, blood seeping through his fingers. Within an instant, the Knight had sped over. Drawing back his fist, he punched Rand squarely in the face, causing his head to snap back as the man passed out.

"Get to Gaius." Nodding, Merlin scrambled over. It wasn't for himself that he sped over though. Leon would be fine, it was nothing more than a blow to the head. For Knights, it seemed to be a curse of the job. Percival, on the other hand, was a different matter entirely.

Merlin could feel the magic even before he reached them. It was almost pulsing out of the man, causing Merlin to shiver as his own magic recoiled in on itself from the touch. It was everything Merlin's magic was not, and the warlock knew that it would be up to him to save the man. There was nothing Gaius could do, and as his guardian turned to face him, he could see in the physician's eyes that he knew that. Crouching down, he glanced over his shoulder at Elyan. The man was in the process of tying Rand against a tree, anger blazing in his eyes in a way Merlin had never seen from the normal gentle man. All that Merlin could see, however, was that he was not looking in their direction.

He placed his hand gently on Percival's forehead, wincing slightly at the burning heat radiating out from the man. He had a feeling that he didn't have long to find the right spell.

"_Rid suus somes of atrum veneficus_," once again, the words rolled off his tongue without hesitation. It took a few attempts, but finally, Merlin felt Percival's temperature drop under his hand, the man's breathing evening out ever so slightly. He stood back with a nod at Gaius. There was nothing more he could do for the man.

"Be careful." That was all the physician was going to say to the powerful man who had become like a son to him. Merlin smiled tightly, and shot off in the direction Lancelot, Gwaine and – with any luck – Arthur, had vanished in.

There was some sort of commotion coming from up ahead. Merlin found his pace quickening in concern when the noises stopped, however. If he could hear his friends fighting, he knew they were alive and well. The silence was terrifying. He knew what Dunran was capable of, he had seen it firsthand. He knew he could still have easily lost Arthur to this man, who could come back from such torment? He was _not_losing either Gwaine or Lancelot!

For a heart stopping moment as he sped into the clearing, he thought he was too late at the sight of the two motionless Knights. A trickle of magic reassured him of the slightly erratic heartbeats and the shallow breathing, but they were definitely still alive. The sickening sound of flesh on flesh drew Merlin's attention.

He had just been beginning to regain a hold over his fury. But seeing Dunran throwing harsh blows at the unprotected Arthur reawakened it even more than before.

"Get away from him. _Now._" He barely even recognised his own voice as Dunran turned to face him. As soon as he had moved away from Arthur, Merlin whispered a word. Immediately, a powerful yet invisible shield sprang into life over the prince. It would certainly protect him from anything else Dunran tried to throw his way, either magical or physical. Very slowly, Merlin started walking down into the clearing. He smiled reassuringly at Arthur, but his eyes remained locked on Dunran, icy cold, anger pouring out of them. There was no way the other sorcerer would be able to deny the power being radiated from the skinny man in front of him.

"All you had to do was ask, boy." Sarcasm was dripping from Dunran's mouth now, but Merlin wasn't fooled. He could see the flicker of fear in the man's eyes. Merlin had thrown him against a wall and all but strangled the man without even saying a word. And now, once again, he had been caught red handed abusing Arthur. Somehow the man knew he wouldn't be walking away from this. But he was going to go down fighting.

"You have no right to talk." Merlin said coldly. Arthur had ironically curled away from the pair, clearly not wanting to face Dunran. It meant he didn't see how his servant's eyes were burning gold, power almost pulsing out of him.

"And you have no right to even live!" Dunran lunched forward, his fist flying towards Merlin. Instead of the blow that would have knocked the man out, Dunran instead found himself back at the base of the tree in a crumpled heap. He couldn't even attempt to hide the anger and fear pounding through him now as he was literally forced to look up at Merlin. Before he had time to say anything else, he found himself being slowly drawn up the tree, his back scrapping against the bark as he moved in time with Merlin's hand.

"Are you a killer, boy? Can you do it?"

"For him I can." Merlin responded darkly. Part of him had always been afraid of this. Could he take the life of another when it wasn't a purely defensive action? But he knew that if he truly wanted to protect Arthur, Dunran could not be allowed to walk free.

Simultaneous groans made his head snap around from the dangerous sorcerer, his eyes flickering back to blue in relief as he saw Lancelot shakily sit up, Gwaine's hand floating up to his head.

"It's over, Dunran. You cannot stop us." Turning his attention back to the man, Merlin blinked to find that he was gone. Before he knew what was happening, something had grabbed him by the throat, slamming him back against the tree. He clawed for his magic, intending to blast this man away from him in a similar way he had done for Rand – just without the restraint – but as the fist constricted, his concentration slipped and he couldn't get a hold on it.

"Merlin!" Gwaine's cry of alarm had Merlin motion slightly wildly with his arm, trying to keep the man back. Dunran had complete control over his own magic at this moment in time, and Merlin was not going to let the man hurt any more of his friends. He tried to swallow, but even that action was somewhat restricted as Dunran leant in, all but breathing in his ear.

"He'll never be rid of me. I've been so _deep _inside him he'll bear those scars forever. You failed him, little boy. Every time he sits down, he'll feel me. Every time he swallows something, it will be me!"

Despite black spots dancing in front of his vision through his restricted airways, Merlin somehow managed to deliver a punch that had Dunran reeling backwards. His fury had lent him a strength the skinny servant didn't even know he possessed. He hadn't even used magic in the slightest, that had all been him. Dunran stumbled backwards, and immediately found both of his arms being gripped by two furious Knights.

"Merlin, get Arthur out of here." Merlin had never heard Lancelot's voice sound so cold and frankly terrifying as it did right then. He went to argue, made to make the point he wanted to make sure Dunran paid for what he had done. But then he looked in his friend's eye. They were planning on making him pay. Lancelot, however, didn't want Merlin involved. He knew the young warlock would not hold back in the slightest, but had also seen how Merlin had reacted to seeing what he had done back at the building. He was trying to protect him. Merlin nodded, moving across to Arthur.

For a moment, he thought the prince was going to shy away from him, nerves spiralling through him in a way he wasn't sure he had ever felt. Had this just made everything ten times worse? He had spent so long trying to get Arthur to trust him. But when he gently rolled the battered prince over, he smiled in relief. Arthur's eyes _were _wide and scared, but only when he glanced towards where Gwaine was attempting to drag Dunran out of the clearing. When he looked back at Merlin, they seemed to soften, an unspoken plea shooting out of them.

"Come on, Sire." Merlin muttered soothingly, his fingers fumbling as he untied Arthur's hands. Wrapping his arm around Arthur's waist, he gently drew him to his feet, deciding that he would get him back to Gaius and let the physician try and get the breeches back on him. Arthur's legs were trembling slightly, but he managed a few tentative steps forward, seeming to grow in strength slightly at Merlin's encouragement.

The warlock was so focused on getting Arthur out of there; Dunran was pushed from his mind. Until he heard a yell of pain and turned his head to see Gwaine fall to the ground, clutching his leg. Lancelot was advancing fast, his sword held in a way Merlin knew was going for the kill. But Dunran was once again one step ahead and threw a spell at the man, knocking him back. As Lancelot stumbled, Merlin put himself in front of Arthur.

"You won't hurt him again!"

"I'll just take you instead then, whelp!" Dunran spat. Merlin swallowed as he saw the sorcerer grasp a dagger in his hand, the weapon almost pulsing with dark magic.

"Forgive me." Merlin whispered, hoping Arthur would hear him. He was not about to die and let Dunran near Arthur again. But for him to be able to stop the man, there was only one thing for him to do. He began allowing his power to fill him up, preparing to blast the man back. He felt as if things were happening in slow motion as Dunran adjusted his grip, clearly intending to throw the dagger. He could feel Arthur pushing against him feebly, trying to get Merlin to move out of the way. But for the first time since he had ever met the prince, Merlin was stronger. He stood his ground as he watched his death be flung across the clearing at him.

"No!" It was the most cracked, hoarse and vulnerable sound that Merlin had ever heard. But it certainly did what the owner of the voice wanted and Merlin turned, completely stunned. It hadn't been Gwaine, Lancelot or even Dunran who had spoken. It had been Arthur. One look at the prince's face for a split second, and he knew it had been pure agony for the man.

But Arthur didn't dwell on it. As Merlin turned to look at him, he gripped the man's shoulders, taking advantage of his distraction to push him to the ground. He allowed his own body to fall with the momentum, and apart from inflicting a small graze across Arthur's arm, the dagger shot over their heads, landing with a thump on the grass.

"Arthur?" Merlin squirmed from where he was trapped under the prince, looking deep into his eyes. Arthur didn't look back though. His eyes fell on the dagger, and with shaking fingers, he picked it up.

"Arthur, what are you doing?" Merlin made to get up as Arthur pulled himself to his knees, but he didn't have time to react when Arthur suddenly threw the dagger. Dunran's mouth formed a small "o" of surprise as he took in the sight of his own weapon suddenly sticking out of his own chest. He locked eyes with Arthur, sneered one last time before promptly keeling over backwards. This time, he didn't get back up.

"Arthur?" Merlin's voice was quiet and uncertain as he crawled up to the prince. Arthur was completely rigid, staring at where Dunran had been standing, slight tremors wracking his body.

"Go back to Gaius?" Merlin glanced over his shoulder at Lancelot and Gwaine. The former nodded, helping his friend up and supported Gwaine back over the hill, leaving Merlin alone with Arthur.

The prince locked eyes with him, and Merlin felt his heart clench as Arthur's filled with tears.

"It's okay. He can't hurt you again. I'm so sorry, I should never have left you." Not knowing what else to do, Merlin wrapped his arms around Arthur, holding him close whilst being mindful of his back. Feeling the tears splash on his top, he tightened his grip, his own trickling down his cheeks.

But this time, Arthur didn't cry silently. Huge sobs tore from him as he unburdened himself on his loyal servant. Merlin winced at every sound being torn from him, knowing it must feel like hell. But something inside of him was relaxing. Arthur must have overcome something in order to make a noise.

There was hope for the prince yet. How long they simply sat there as Arthur cried, Merlin had no idea. But he would have stayed in the position forever if it meant getting _his_ Arthur back.


	12. Chapter 12

**Early one for you this time. Due to not knowing when shifts etc are going to be, and they seem to be regular, I'm just going to post whenever I can!**

**Thanks again for the support.**

There was a coolness in the air as they simply sat there, but as the sun began to set, Merlin knew they needed to get back to the others. His arm was burning, although thankfully the bleeding had stopped, and he was worried about Arthur. He knew that Gaius needed to redress the wounds and check that Dunran hadn't done any long term damage with his latest attack. But it was more than that. There was something not quite right, and all Merlin knew was that he wanted Arthur back amongst the knights, where he would be safe.

The prince was leaning on him completely, the burn pulsing now and again as it forced the magic around his body. Despite what he had said to Gaius, Merlin knew the time had come to see if they could do anything about it. Arthur had spoken, he had tried to drink. And more than that, he had personally killed one of his tormentors. If there was anything that was going to make him feel significantly safer, it was that. Merlin knew it was time to begin to push things with Arthur's healing. It was time to go home.

"Come on, Arthur." Drawing the man carefully to his feet, Merlin held tightly onto the prince's arm. The easiest way would have been to drape Arthur's arm over his own shoulders, but that would mean his free arm would be against Arthur's back, something that Merlin wasn't prepared to try in the slightest. Instead, he just took the slower approach, encouraging his friend to keep putting one foot in front of the other as he guided him back to their camp. As they walked, Merlin couldn't help glancing over his shoulder. He couldn't help but feel like they were being watched. Once he knew Arthur was safe and settled, he would have a proper look around. A magical look.

It surprised Merlin how long it took them to get back considering his mad sprint down into the clearing in the first place. But finally, the low murmur of voices reached their ears and the smell of something cooking hit their noses. Arthur tensed, but Merlin merely tightened his grip. 

"It's okay, Sire. I promise. I'm right here." He just hoped they had moved Rand out of sight, for Merlin was not sure how Arthur would react to the slave. Stumbling into the area, there was a sudden hush until Lancelot jumped to his feet with a wide smile, unclasping his cloak and draping it around Arthur. Gaius looked concerned about the open wounds and the material, but they had managed to heal enough that it caused Arthur no problems as Merlin carefully lowered him to the floor in front of the fire. Arthur immediately moved closer, trying to drink in the warmth from it, shivering slightly.

Merlin watched him for a moment before looking around him. Someone – he suspected Elyan – had indeed moved Rand. It was clear that he was still tied to the same tree, but he was on the far side, giving the Knights some privacy. Leon was awake, a rough looking bandage around his head as he crouched on the other side of the fire, stirring something in a small pot whilst shooting Arthur concerned glances. If Merlin's eyes weren't deceiving him, the man also looked guilty. The servant knew that Leon would be thinking that he should have done more to protect Arthur once again, and too tired to go into the familiar argument, he ignored the man.

Percival was also awake, and although he looked far from his usual undefeatable self, he had more colour in his cheeks and the fact that Gaius was trying to get Gwaine to sit still for long enough in order to tie off the bandage showed the physician was clearly happy with the large knight's progress.

"Merlin?" Said warlock glanced over at his guardian, finding that he turned too quickly and the world seemed to lurch a little. A steadying hand on his elbow revealed Lancelot helping him move over to the physician, and without a word, Gaius took hold of his injured arm.

"Don't, Arthur..."

"Can wait a moment, he's enjoying the fire. Now stay still." At Gaius' words, Merlin glanced over his shoulder. The physician was right. Arthur did seem to be enjoying the fire, shuffling slightly closer to it, his eyes reflecting the dancing flames. Merlin still wasn't happy about the way the man seemed to be shivering though.

"But Gaius, he's..."

"Shivering? I noticed. It's cold and he's only wearing a cloak, think about it, Merlin. I want to check him before dressing him though, means that he won't have to go through the motions twice. Now stay _still._" Merlin huffed irritably as Gaius began prodding the wound, causing the warlock to clench his teeth slightly. The cut was stinging with more intensity now. Merlin didn't realise how much the adrenaline had deadened the pain until now, but as Gaius pressed down again, he hissed slightly, jerking. Merlin wouldn't be Merlin if he didn't try to escape from an examination.

As Gaius turned to get something out of his bag, Merlin took his chance. He pulled his arm from the man's slackening grip and jumped to his feet, speeding back over to the fire and sitting down next to Arthur. When the physician turned, he simply grinned innocently over at him from the other side of the clearing.

"Merlin."

"What? You've cleaned it, haven't you?" Merlin responded cheekily, catching Gwaine's eye and found that his grin was even wider. Dunran was dead. He would never hurt Arthur again. And the prince had spoken, and even tried to drink something, despite the consequences. For the first time in over eight months, Merlin felt like things were beginning to go right for them.

"Leon, would you care to hold my ward still?" Merlin flinched slightly as Gaius addressed the Knight, knowing by the way Leon's eyes suddenly sparkled slightly that he was having similar thoughts to the warlock. Things were beginning to go right again, meaning that Merlin had no chance of being able to fend off the Knight. Instead, he tried to scramble back a pace, but a hand latched around his ankle.

"Stay." A voice croaked, and the whole clearing sucked in a sharp breath. It was still weak, no stronger than his first word, but no one could deny that Arthur had spoken. There was the slightest command in his voice, clearly wanting his servant to do as he was told. It was only because of how well this group of men knew the prince they even identified it at all, for Arthur certainly did not sound like himself.

"S...Sire?" Arthur wasn't the only one who didn't sound like himself, Merlin had never heard Leon sound like that either. Arthur didn't say anything else, just continued to hold onto Merlin's ankle. His eyes flickered over to Gaius though, and the physician smiled, the first true smile Merlin had seen on him for eight months, even taking into account how little he had been in Camelot himself as he searched for Arthur.

Merlin pretended to put up a bit more of a fight against the physician, more to see what Arthur would do than anything else. Gaius seemed to know what he was doing, but that didn't stop the man from giving him a playful swat around the head once he had finally finished tying off a bandage around the deep gash on Merlin's arm. Arthur didn't move though, nor did he loosen his grip on Merlin.

When he was done, Gaius turned to Arthur. The prince made no sign that he had seen the movement, but Merlin the grip tighten a fraction. It just showed how far Arthur had to go before he was back to his normal strength, for Merlin still easily prised it away, lowering himself so that he was more on the same level with the curled up prince.

"Arthur, you have to let Gaius have a look at you. I'll be right here, I promise. But he needs to put something on your back."

Arthur, however, frantically shook his head, and Merlin felt his heart catch at seeing the tears once more in the man's eyes. He thought he had spent them all before they had returned to the clearing, but it seemed eight months of holding back and hiding how he was feeling was catching up on the man. Gaius sighed deeply, letting his hand rest soothingly on the back of Arthur's leg, only to have the prince jerk away violently. Gaius frowned, anger springing into life.

"Did he..?" He didn't want to say it out loud, but Merlin knew what he meant.

"I don't know, I didn't get there in time."

"He was going to," another voice cut in. Gwaine was watching them, once again looking uncharacteristically serious. The scene he and Lancelot had charged in on was not going to be leaving him any time soon. "But I don't think he actually did it."

Gaius looked down at Arthur with such sadness that Merlin felt his own heart catch. But Arthur would not look at him. Instead, he was moving away, backing into Merlin, moving his hand from the warlock's ankle onto the bottom of his shirt again, holding on tight.

"Arthur? Arthur, shh, it's fine, it's only Gaius. You're safe." But Merlin's reassurances, even coupled with the hand stroking Arthur's hair comfortingly did nothing. Arthur continued to shake. But after a moment, Merlin was beginning to sense something. This wasn't the nerves from before, the fright of strangers after what he had been through. This was sheer terror. His eyes fell on the still bleeding shallow cut across Arthur's arm from Dunran's dagger, and he groaned out loud. He knew he could sense magic.

Letting his hand ghost over the wound, Merlin let a word roll almost silently off his tongue, getting a feel of precisely what Dunran had done this time. The spell was revealed, and Merlin thought he could cry from the sheer unfairness of it all. It took ones concerns, and turned them into full blown terror. No doubt because of the secret he knew the warlock was hiding, Dunran had hoped to destroy Merlin even if the dagger didn't do the trick for him. The time for being careful was over, Merlin knew he had to break the spell, _now,_ or Arthur would never be able to fully move on. They had begun making progress; they couldn't go back on that now!

He caught Gaius' eye, and the old man seemed to realise there was more going on than was apparent on the surface. He nodded at his ward, and sprang forward. Rolling Arthur onto his stomach, it was as if he couldn't feel the prince's struggles, or the accusing stares burning into him from the rest of the Knights. The man was practically sobbing in sheer terror, but Gaius knew that as soon as Merlin had removed the spell, Arthur would calm down. It didn't mean it hurt any less though.

In the pretence of keeping hold of a flaying arm, Merlin gripped Arthur's limb just above the elbow and below the cut. Keeping his eyes cast down so no one would see him, words of the Old Religion rolled off his tongue, his eyes burning gold as his own magic rushed out to meet the darkness within Arthur. He could feel the magic of the brand as well, but pointedly ignored it for now, knowing that he had to do one thing at a time. It wasn't so much that his own power wasn't strong enough to combat it, more that he was worried what using that amount of magic on Arthur considering his state would do to the man. When it came to the burn, Merlin was going to follow Gaius' lead. They _were_ going to remove it, of that there was no doubt. But only when the physician was sure Arthur could cope without it.

Gaius kept letting his eyes flick up to Merlin, adjusting the speed he was working at to make it seem like they would finish at the same time. Eventually, Merlin sat back with a slight gasp, hands trembling as his eyes faded back to blue. Dunran had truly meant to destroy him. If he had been battling against his own fears, there was no way his magic would have been able to focus enough for the length of time he needed in order to go against the darkness. Arthur almost immediately calmed down, his cries dwindling away, but he still kept close to Merlin. Gaius had explained that the warlock was the first person Arthur registered as not being a threat. He was going to be clingy for a while, and that just fuelled Merlin's desire to get his prince back to his confident – and arrogant – self. This just wasn't Arthur.

"You should get some rest." Gaius muttered quietly, securing another bandage around Arthur's arm, but watching Merlin. Even so, he could still feel Arthur's gaze following his every move, exhaustion spiralling deep within his eyes.

"I need to stay with him." Merlin muttered, his hand once more resting against the back of Arthur's head. He found his eyes strayed over to the tree, where Elyan was keeping close watch, Leon leaning against another tree close by and clearly preparing himself to help should the younger Knight need it, despite the blood soaked bandage around his head. "What about Rand?"

"He's not who he was..."

"I know that, Gaius, he tried to kill me, remember?" Merlin's angry outburst caused Arthur to flinch and Gaius to raise an eyebrow.

"I'm perfectly aware of that, my boy. But what I meant was... something in him snapped when Dunran died. I think the man used dark magic to break him, meaning that if Rand was to kill his tormenter, he would have died along with him. He is barely more than an empty shell now." 

Merlin felt sick, his hand automatically tightening on Arthur. What if he had done that to the prince? Arthur's freedom could have been his destruction! But something told Merlin that that wouldn't have happened, they were making too much money out of him to let him be bound to one man alone, no matter how much Dunran was paying. He swallowed hard, meaning to repeat his question of what they do with him, when Arthur suddenly rolled away from him.

"Sire?" Gaius' confusion was mirroring Merlin's completely as they watched Arthur crawl across the floor. He wasn't getting very far, he didn't have the strength, but he was making a damn good try.

"Arthur, what is it?" Merlin rose, took a few steps forward and crouched down again, next to where Arthur was adamantly trying to crawl away.

"S...sundown." Arthur muttered. Merlin blinked at him in surprise. Out of all the days he had spent by the prince's side since he had found him, this was the first time Arthur was reacting to something as ordinary as that. Merlin knew full well he wasn't afraid of the dark, the fire had gone out more than once and Arthur hadn't reacted. So what..?

"He's coming..." Arthur's injured arm could no longer support his weight and he pitched forward, only being saved from hitting the ground by Lancelot appearing out of nowhere and a hand wrapping around the prince's chest, holding him up. Gently, he eased him back into a sitting position, where Merlin immediately took over, holding onto the man and trying to get him to relax.

"Who's coming, Arthur?" He asked gently, sharing concerned looks with Lancelot and sensing the rest of the Knights were paying attention.

"P...poison..." Arthur gasped; sweat beading his forehead as he tried to pull out of Merlin's grip. The warlock ground his teeth together in silent fury. Were they ever going to leave him alone? He didn't know who Arthur meant. It was possible he had met the man, but he had no idea. Before he could think of anything to say, Lancelot's face clouded over.

"Poison?" Merlin mutely nodded, blinking slowly as he tried to rid his mind of the image of Arthur dying whilst there was nothing he could do. There would be no Rand coming to the rescue this time. Merlin knew that if anyone should end up with a drop of this poison near them, they were going to be in serious trouble, for the warlock would not be able to save them. Luckily, he had forgotten that he was in the presence of Knights.

"Take up positions." Leon's voice made Merlin jump, but a slow smile split over his face as he watched the men he had come to regard as friends all jump to do Leon's bidding. He held on tightly to Arthur as the Knights split up, even Gwaine and Percival stumbling their way to their designated positions. Nothing was getting close to their prince tonight.

Merlin felt Arthur relax against him slightly, and felt his smile widen. It seemed the prince too had enough faith in his knights to realise that this time, they weren't going to let anything happen to him. He was beginning to accept the safety they were offering, and catching Gaius' eye, the physician had noticed it as well, especially if the way he was nodding approvingly was anything to go by.

Cradling Arthur awkwardly –he was almost tipping the prince forward to make sure no weight was put on his back – Merlin navigated them into a more comfortable position. Eventually, he ended up with his back against a tree, Arthur almost sprawled across his lap from where he was refusing to let go of Merlin's shirt once again. His hand stroking the man's hair comfortably, Merlin winced as he felt Arthur relax enough for the burn to flare into life.

He caught Gaius' eye over the fire, and the physician glanced pointedly between his ward and the prince. Merlin sighed. He knew what Gaius wanted him to do, and if he felt Arthur was ready to have another magical force invading his body, then Merlin trusted him. He just didn't want to destroy the sense of safety Arthur had managed to find. But as the prince whimpered slightly against the burn, Merlin let his power fill him up.

His hand resting on Arthur's head as a channel, his eyes burnt brightly. Words were not used, he didn't need them. Instead, he focused in just pouring his magic into the prince. For a moment, he felt Arthur stiffen beneath him, but to Merlin's delight, he relaxed again. And kept relaxing. As the burn flared into life, Merlin shut his eyes, letting his magic guide him. It swept through Arthur's body, nullifying the shocks being sent out one by one. The burn was still active, but Arthur couldn't feel it.

Finally, Merlin felt the prince's breathing even out. He glanced across at Gaius, who nodded encouragingly, tears in his eyes. The expression said it all. Arthur was asleep.

For a while, Merlin continued to channel the magic into his friend, soothing the aches and pains caused by the latest attack. But eventually, he too gave into his body's demands for respite, and drifted off to sleep, the Crown Prince of Camelot using his legs as a pillow as he slept properly for the first time in however long.


	13. Chapter 13

**Thank you again for the fantastic support. I have absolutely no idea how long this story is going to be, I have a vague plan, but more just letting it take me wherever!**

"Come on, Sire, let me."

It had been almost two weeks since Dunran had been killed. The small party had stayed in the clearing for a few days, waiting for Arthur to calm down again. But eventually, Gaius had declared him fit to travel, and they had begun to make their painstakingly slow progress back to Camelot. At the beginning, the prince had only managed a few minutes at a time, but as time passed; his strength slowly began to come back to him as the wounds healed. He had managed four hours before exhaustion claimed him today. It helped that some of the bandages had been able to come off, the welts on his legs practically having disappeared under Gaius' careful treatment.

"Arthur, no." Rolling his eyes, Merlin sighed. The prince had managed to drink properly again, and even start on food, although Gaius didn't want him having anything solid just yet. The problem was, every time Arthur was left to manage it by himself, he tended to make himself sick, meaning that it was down to his servant to basically feed him. That was what Merlin was trying to do now. Sitting with his back against a tree, he practically had Arthur leaning on him, knowing the extra time on a horse he had managed had exhausted him. But that didn't stop Arthur from being any less stubborn.

Every time Merlin raised the water skin to his lips again, Arthur made a grab for it, clearly wanting to do it himself. Merlin might have felt like trusting him if it wasn't for the fact he had tried that the day before. Arthur had gone too quickly yet again, his still-weak stomach had protested and it had once more come rushing back up.

Grabbing Arthur's wrist in his other hand, the servant pushed the master's hand away for the umpteenth time.

"No." Arthur didn't say anything, but Merlin felt his body tense. The man was still speaking very little, months of forcing himself to not make a sound was a big boundary to overcome. He would make noises of protest or discomfort, especially when Gaius was tending to his back, and occasionally would come out with something when there was something particularly playing on his mind. But for the most part, he just stayed quiet. Merlin knew he was completely aware of what was going on around him though; there were subtly shifts in his body language when something happened, or when he caught sight of Rand.

Not knowing what else to do with the broken slave, they had ended up bringing him with him. Gwaine was all for letting him wander the forest, knowing that he wouldn't have a chance considering the state he was in. Merlin and Lancelot had immediately shot him down on that. If it was dark magic that had reduced Rand to this state, Merlin found he had to believe there was something that he could do, that there was some way of saving him. They weren't going to take him all the way back to Camelot; Uther would have his head before any of them could blink. But for now, Rand was travelling with them, only under constant watch from Elyan.

As Arthur once again grabbed for the water skin, Merlin lost his patience slightly.

"Arthur, no! Just stop it; you know you can't have it, so stop trying!" With one hand, he grabbed both of Arthur's wrists, holding them in the prince's lap as he tipped the last of the water into Arthur's mouth. He was lucky there was only a drip left and he was able to let go almost as soon as he grabbed hold. As soon as the prince had drunk, Merlin slipped out behind him, stalking over to the horses. It wasn't so much that he needed to get anything, more like he needed a moment. He let his fingers tangle themselves in the coarse mane, taking a deep breath to ground himself.

"Merlin?" Gaius' concerned tone made the warlock open eyes he didn't even know he had shut as he offered his mentor a sheepish smile.

"That was stupid, wasn't it?" He had been trying so hard to make sure there was nothing that could possibly set Arthur back, but this time, he had had enough.

"It was worth the risk. He responded well to it. As in, his only reaction was annoyance, no fear. He's getting there. But it is not him I'm worried about."

"I'm fine, Gaius. Just a bit tired." Even as he spoke, Merlin let the horse take more of his weight, resisting the urge to rest his head against the saddle and fall asleep where he was standing up. The Knights were taking their duty at protecting the prince very seriously, but it meant his care was practically left to Merlin on his own. Merlin was the only one Arthur would let near when he was having a bad spell, and the warlock was beginning to feel it. Every night he would be channelling his magic into the prince in order to counter-act the burn. The sleep was doing the royal wonders, colour was finally beginning to trickle back into his cheeks. Gaius had been right in thinking that as Arthur regained his strength, the burn would be less effective, but Merlin was still battling against the darkest of magics every night. It was beginning to take its toll.

"You need rest."

"I'll rest when we get him home. He made four hours today, Gaius. He's finally beginning to get there."

"At this rate, it will be you we have to carry."

"Gaius, I'm fine!" The physician looked at his ward critically. What colour Arthur had managed to gain, Merlin had lost, dark bags once again circling under his eyes, finalising the haunted look the man seemed to have perfected over the last eight months. Gaius hadn't quite realised how much of a sparkle had been back in Merlin's eyes once they had found Arthur, but this constant caring over the prince was beginning to show.

"Merlin, you are the only one he trusts. If you carry on like this, especially lashing out like that, he will lose that trust and we will back where we started." That was certainly the most extreme of a scenario, and considering Arthur hadn't shown any fear when Merlin had held his hands down meant it would be a long time before that became a reality. But Gaius knew the only way to get the warlock to take care of himself was by making him think it was for Arthur's benefit.

"I'm..."

"Sleep." A hoarse voice interrupted, making Merlin jump. Arthur had come staggering over, but even as he stood there, Gaius sensed the royal's legs beginning to give way. He moved forward, his action startling a nearby Percival. The Knight seemed to know exactly what was about to happen and lowered Arthur to the floor even before the prince had realised he was falling. The three of them waited for the explosion of temper – Arthur was beginning to hate how weak he still was – but this time, it didn't come. He instead just crawled forward and grabbed Merlin around the knees. Once again, it was only Percival's quick reactions that meant the warlock didn't fall on top of his injured master.

When they were both on the floor, the Knight moved away again, but Gaius caught his slight eye roll and the way the corners of his mouth twitched slightly. The Round Table party had always put friendship above duty, but this situation had shown them quite how close Arthur and Merlin were.

Said servant was looking at the prince in bewilderment, wondering precisely why Arthur had tried to pull him over. Normally, he could read the prince. If Arthur was getting paranoid over something, he would often keep pulling Merlin behind him, the way he had always tried to protect his servant. If he was weary, he would often lean towards Merlin ever so slightly, a sign only the servant could read as a sign he wanted to stop. Arthur may not be talking much, but he was certainly communicating what was going through his mind.

"Sleep." Arthur repeatedly stubbornly, all but glaring at his servant.

"Okay, Sire, I'll get you your blankets and roll, one moment..." Merlin made to get up, thinking the prince wanted to get some rest. He wasn't surprised; the man had gone almost an extra hour compared to the day before. Arthur, however, had other ideas. Lunging forward, he once again latched onto Merlin's ankle, stopping his gangly servant from standing up.

"No."

"You don't want your blankets?"

"You. Sleep."

"I'm fine, Arthur, honest..." Merlin didn't exactly know how to tell the prince that he couldn't go to sleep until Arthur himself was asleep, that he was the reason the man managed to get any rest. He had no intention of letting Arthur lose any of the sleep he was managing to get just because his servant was tired.

But what he wasn't expecting was Arthur's reaction. So far, the prince had just almost accepted anything Merlin told him, knowing that it would be helping him. But this time, Arthur was more aware than what Merlin was giving him credit for. He leant up, grabbing hold of Merlin's wrist and tugging him back down again, not letting go.

"Sleep." He demanded a scowl on his face as he glared at his servant. For a moment, Merlin caught a glimpse of the true Arthur. He was annoyed with his servant for once again not looking after himself. Merlin wondered what would happen if he was to fight back, resist Arthur in his normal way. He glanced over, intending to catch Gaius' eye and try and ask the physician without words whether it would be pushing it or not. But although he did catch Gaius' eye, Merlin found himself subjecting to a look that had him groaning. His guardian agreed with his master.

"No, I'm fine." Merlin announced stubbornly, accidentally drawing the Knights attention to the area and making the matter ten times worse for himself as Gwaine and Lancelot came meandering over to see what the commotion was.

"Merlin, you must rest." There was a note in Gaius' voice that made the young warlock look up at him in concern. Arthur still had hold of his wrist, Gwaine and Lancelot were practically flanking him and Gaius stood in front of the four of them, something in his hand. Merlin wasn't going anywhere.

"I can't, Gaius, you know that I'm needed." Merlin knew even as he tried pleading with the old man that it wasn't going to do any good. With only the physician – and Merlin suspected Lancelot might have an inclining about what was truly going – aware of why Merlin felt the need to stay awake, the rest of the group were preparing to back the prince on this.

Arthur pulled himself closer, not releasing his grip on Merlin's wrist in the slightest, mirroring the way the warlock had held him down not that long before. He pushed at Merlin's shoulder, clearly intending to try and get him to lie down, stubbornness burning brightly out of his eyes that, had he not been on the receiving end of it, would have made Merlin's heart soar.

"Gaius, please..."

The physician bent down, and for a moment, Merlin truly thought that he had won the man over, that his guardian was going to help him. But when Gaius spoke, his words were soft, clearly intended only for Merlin.

"Think of how much this will help Arthur. Seeing that others are tired apart from him. You cannot battle against the magic every day, Merlin, it's draining you. You need rest."

"But..."

"Sleep." Arthur repeated, crawling forward now that Gaius had straightened up once more. Sitting by the warlock's head, he copied a position Merlin had often held him in and pulled the warlock onto his lap. His hand was combing through the black hair, and as much as he tried to fight it, Merlin could not give into his need for sleep. With Arthur once again trying to play the protector, it was a sign things were returning to normal. He knew that some things may never be the same again. The old Arthur would never have done something like this, he would have more likely ordered Gaius to drug him. But this one needed the constant reassurance of physical contact, and it appeared Merlin was the only one who could give it to him. Gaius said it was a response from how long he had spent isolated, but even in sleep, Merlin was still able to watch over his prince.

Gwaine and Lancelot watched their friend for a moment, before catching each other's eye and moving away at the same time, beckoning for Gaius to follow them.

"Are we still being followed?" The physician knew what the two knights would want, and why they had waited until Merlin didn't have a chance to over hear them. Gwaine glanced over his shoulder at where Arthur was staring into space, before nodding.

"It's been almost a week they've been following us for now, Gaius. Should we tell them?"

"No." Gaius' response was a harsh snap, and he immediately felt a stab of guilt at seeing the slightly hurt look on Gwaine's face. Merlin was not the only one beginning to struggle with their slow progress back to Camelot. As far as Arthur had come in the last couple of weeks since his rescue, they still had a long way to go. "You've seen how Merlin is with him. If he thinks Arthur is in danger, he'll never let him go again. It's not good for either of them. We have to build Arthur's confidence, get him to spend time away from Merlin."

"But they..."

"Haven't done anything yet. If they attack, we'll know about it in time, the guard has held so far. But until now, let them both think they are safe."

"Is that fair on Arthur?" Lancelot muttered, watching the prince closely. This was the first time Merlin had been asleep since the day they had drugged him with Arthur still being awake, and the Knight wasn't quite sure how the prince was going to react. "He thought he was safe before, and then got attacked again."

"That was personal. I'm sure this is different." The three of them jumped, not having heard Leon's approach. His eyes flickered over to Arthur, and he smiled gently. "He used to sit like that when he was a boy. I think it is just bandits, we can deal with them. If Arthur knows it is a normal attack rather than anything aimed specifically at him, he should be alright, shouldn't he, Gaius?"

"There is no telling, but theoretically... where is he going?" Breaking off, Gaius found that movement had caught the corner of his eye. Arthur had laid Merlin down on the ground, and even as the four of them watched, shakily rose to his feet and moved off slightly. Gwaine suddenly cursed.

"I know where we are. Lance, come on! It's the spot where he was taken!" Lancelot swore violently, something so uncharacteristic for the man, Gaius found himself blinking in surprise as the two of them shot off, Leon on their heels whilst yelling for the others to keep guard. Luckily, Merlin didn't stir.

Gaius followed as fast as he could manage. By the time he had caught up with them, Gwaine was struggling to hold up the prince, who was vomiting copiously, one hand resting shakily on a tree. Even now, months later, the clearing still held the air of what had happened that day. How Arthur had recognised it considering the state he had spent the last few weeks in, Gaius didn't know, but there could be no denying this reaction. He knew precisely the spot where his hell had begun.

"We need Merlin." Gwaine muttered, lowering himself to his knees whilst trying to support Arthur, who was now violently shaking, his eyes fixed on a spot in the centre of the clearing.

"I don't want to..."

"Arthur!" Gaius' protests about not wanting to wake Merlin were cut short as the said warlock came running past him, snatching the prince out of Gwaine's arms and holding him close in a way he knew calmed the man down. Somehow, destiny had alerted her protector that his prince was in trouble once again.

Arthur clung onto Merlin desperately, still not tearing his eyes away from whatever it was that was drawing his attention. For a while, Merlin didn't say anything, just let Arthur calm down in his own time. But eventually, he whispered something to Arthur, his words loud enough for the whole clearing to hear.

"What happened, Arthur? Can you tell me?" Gaius smiled at Merlin in pride. Everyone had wanted to know at the beginning what had befallen the prince, but it was clear Arthur wasn't ready to talk about it. But the servant had managed to read Arthur's body language enough to know this was the right moment. If Arthur didn't tell them right now, Gaius knew he may never do so.

The rest of the Knights moved in closer, Elyan tying Rand to a tree as Arthur shakily nodded. It was clear he wanted to tell them, but if his grip on Merlin was anything to go by, he was struggling. Gaius disappeared back to the horse, returning moments later with a small phial.

"It will help calm him." He muttered to Merlin, who took it with a smile and helped Arthur down the contents, settling the man's stomach at the same time. For a long moment, Arthur didn't seem to want to say anything, opening his mouth a few times, but nothing came out. But then he started speaking, and the events from almost nine months ago were revealed to all.


	14. Chapter 14

_Arthur had made good timing with his hunt for the day, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew it was because he didn't have a bumbling servant scaring everything off whenever they got within five leagues of it. Even as he let the thought flicker across, the prince felt a stab of guilt. He shouldn't be pleased that his servant was confined to his chambers with the flu, and yet, it was nice to be able to just be by himself, not have to worry about anyone else._

_The camp was made up in no time at all. Despite what he may have lead Merlin to believe, he was more than capable of looking after himself whilst being out on a hunt. It was just amusing to watch the servant try and figure out the subtleties of a camp. A fire was lit, the horse bedded down. Arthur couldn't remember the last time he had felt this relaxed. There seemed to have been a tension in the castle that even hunting hadn't been able to free him from, but now, out here on his own, he had no one to have to perform in front of. Not that he did with Merlin, his gangly servant let him unwind more than anyone. But when the clumsy youth was around, Arthur found he was automatically on guard, not wanting any harm come to the boy._

_Maybe that was his undoing? Arthur wasn't sure how he didn't hear anything coming. He had chosen his spot well, his back covered by towering oaks, the dense undergrowth surrounding their roots meaning he knew no one could come at him from that direction. Stretched out, he had the fire directly in front of him – again acting as a shield – and his hand resting on his sword even as he dozed. During the hours he later had to look back on the attack, he knew they must have used magic. There was no way they would have been able to sneak up on him like that otherwise; this was the Crown Prince of Camelot, after all._

_The first sign he had that something was wrong was when his horse nickered in concern. The stallion was one of the best Arthur had ever ridden, and he knew the beast had hyper alert senses; it had saved his life on more occasions than he wanted to consider. Hearing the horse shift position, Arthur immediately let his fingers close around his sword, leaping to his feet in one movement. For a moment, he could see nothing._

_"Easy, boy." He murmured softly, moving over to the horse and letting his fingers thread through the thick mane, scratching at the horse's neck in the way he knew the animal liked. But it did nothing to calm him down, and Arthur found the hairs on the back of his neck beginning to stand up slightly. He couldn't shake a strange feeling settling over him, almost as if he was being watched. For a moment, he stilled, letting his eyes scan the surrounding area, looking for any advantages an enemy might have from the undergrowth, his hand shifting to a more defensive grip on his sword before he suddenly turned, weapon flying out in front of him._

_What he hadn't been expecting was to immediately find himself trading blows with someone directly behind him. If he had turned even a second later, they would have had him before he so much as swung his sword. But whilst his mind couldn't comprehend how they had managed to get so close without him noticing, Arthur still managed to quickly dispatch his attacker. Blowing out a breath in relief, Arthur swallowed slightly nervously as his horse continued to shift in nerves._

_Moving back to the centre of the clearing, Arthur tensed, letting his training fill his mind as he waited to see what happened next. For once, he had no idea where they were going to come from, just knew for sure they were there. A small dart flew over his head, causing the prince to duck in surprise, watching wide eyed as it hit the horse. Whatever it contained must have been strong as the animal screamed in surprise, eyes rolling as his hooves flew. Hit with an idea, Arthur darted back to the beast's side. Fumbling with the rope, he had almost pulled it free when he found himself under attack again._

_This time, the men came from all directions, continuing to pour into the area even when Arthur was more than surrounded. Men were dropping like flies, their skill no more than that of a mere bandit. For Arthur, they proved to be no challenge at all in terms of skill. What was more pressing was the sheer numbers. Small cuts were appearing on the prince as men got lucky swings in before the fighting man dispatched them._

_Eventually, after what felt like hours of fighting, Arthur felt his sword go flying out of his hand. The man who had managed to perform the manoeuvre found himself on the receiving end of the prince's fist and dropped without hesitation. Reaching down, Arthur made to snatch up the man's own weapon. But whilst his right hand closed around the sword, someone grabbed hold of his left._

_Before Arthur had time to react, his arm was twisted around, causing him to hiss with pain even as he swung the stolen sword. They disarmed him again – easily this time – and someone grabbed his other arm. He was forced to his knees, although it still took five men to hold him down – two on either arm and someone else pressing down on his shoulders from behind. He could hear his horse neighing shrilly, trying to come to his master's aid. Even as Arthur watched, he reared, breaking the rope the prince had been attempting to loosen and charged at the men._

_For a moment, Arthur thought he would be alright. Nothing could come between him and the horse's hooves without meeting a sticky end. But one of the men was quicker. Arthur could only watch, open mouthed and horrified as a sword swung with expert precision, driving between the ribs of the animal. It fell to the floor, screaming. Arthur swallowed back bile, fury making him fight against his attackers once more. It would take time for the animal to die like that._

_"No help for his Highness." A voice spat, and Arthur found his eyes torn away from his fallen animal as he was sharply backhanded. Seeing stars with his head reeling, he was barely aware of his arms being pulled behind him before the harsh burn of a rope over his wrists cut through his foggy mind, causing him to immediately start struggling. One of the men holding him smacked him harshly over the back of his head, but they all let go, leaving Arthur kneeling in the middle of his camp site, bound._

_But he was far from being defeated. Trying to gain himself so more time – and drown at the anguished sounds coming from his horse – he glared at the man who had spoken._

_"You'll never get away with this. The King will have your heads."_

_"If we don't have his first." Arthur tried not to show any sign of emotion. He was a Knight, he had been trained to withstand the most brutal of scenarios, even more so considering he was the Crown Prince and future monarch. Not to mention he knew things about the city even the Knights didn't know._

"_You won't get near." Arthur swore, his voice both threatening and promising at the same time, even if it did earn him a sharp kick in the stomach. With all the breath driven out of him, the prince found himself on his side, watching awkwardly as the men cleared away their dead, all but ignoring their captive. Arthur frowned as he watched them work, especially when one of them was chanting something under his breath and making all evidence of the bandits attack vanish. Magic. He should have known._

_The prince didn't have time to think anything through before he was being hauled to his feet by the back of his shirt. Someone gave him a hard shove in his shoulder blades, sending Arthur stumbling forward even as he tried to correct his balance, not an easy task with his hands bound behind his back. The royal was bundled effectively out of the clearing, men surrounding him with weapons drawn as they forced him along. Arthur made it look like he had been subdued, but really, his fingers were twisting at the ropes, feeling it give ever so slightly. All he needed was time._

_He certainly got it. The bandits walked long into the night. Arthur easily kept pace, doing nothing to show any weakness, although his wrists and fingers were already beginning to leave crimson smears from where he subtly continued to struggle with the ropes. He finally felt them begin to give, and slowed his pace just a fraction. His guards didn't seem to notice as they simply adjusted their own pace to keep in step with the prince._

_As the hours drew on, Arthur kept slowing down. One of the men kept leering at him mockingly, but Arthur merely stared stonily back. If they wanted to think of it as him being weak, that was fine with the future king. What they hadn't seemed to notice was that the rest of the group simply strode past them irritably. Very slowly, Arthur went from being in the centre of his captors, to right at the back, only surrounded by his immediate guard._

_Letting the rest draw further ahead, he knew he would have to time this carefully. If he acted too soon, the rest of the men would hear the commotion and come and assist. But if he waited too long, then his guard would get suspicious and be on their guard. _

_He managed to –somehow- time it to perfection. There was a slight commotion up ahead – bandits never did well in big groups - and Arthur took his chance. He gave one last frantic tug, and the rope loosened enough for him to be able to slide his wrists free. Two of the men fell quickly and swiftly – one to a well placed punch, one to a flying dagger. A third dropped unconscious when Arthur bowled him over, managing to strike his head against a rock, but the fourth was prepared for him. Arthur could see he was about to call out for help, so practically took a running leap and jumped on the man's back, one arm wrapped around his neck and one hand covering the man's mouth._

_It felt like an age as the two silently grappled, the rest of the group slowly moving further away. Eventually, the man's grip on Arthur's arm began to slacken, before slipping completely and the two of them ended up on the floor. Breathing hard himself, Arthur waited for long enough to make sure that none of them were about to get up and follow him, and then took off into the trees._

_If he had just been escaping from bandits, the young royal would have got away there and then. But the bandits had just been a front, and Arthur had been right in thinking some were using magic. One person had watched the entire struggle between the prince and his guards with a cool, detached manner, his mouth twitching into what could almost be considered a smirk as he watched Arthur run._

"_Stop him." The soft voice sounded next to him and Dunran nodded, understanding his instructions. When he had discovered the plan to capture and torture the Crown Prince of Camelot, he had immediately offered his services. If they were now literally relying on him to stop the fleeing prince, he only hoped the reward that came with that would meet his satisfaction._

_Hands swirled in front of him, dark words pouring from his tongue as his eyes glowed gold, never blinking as they watched Arthur run. The prince was getting further away now, but it didn't matter to the sorcerer. One final word, and the spell shot from his hands._

_Arthur was truly beginning to think he had made it. The sounds of the bandits crashing through the undergrowth – whilst masking any noise he made – was growing quieter as the prince put a considerable amount of distance between him and his captors, adrenaline lending him the strength to keep going. But suddenly, it was as if he had just run into a brick wall, stopping still and gasping as a strange sensation overtook him._

_The only way he could describe it was as if thousands of tiny daggers were digging into him, all over. The prince tried to take another step, but his legs buckled underneath him and he hit the floor, groaning as the sensation continued and he felt the blackness of unconsciousness begin to creep up on him. Arthur still managed to crawl a few paces before the magic became too much for him, and he passed out, unaware of cold eyes watching his every move._

_When Arthur regained consciousness, he knew he was in big trouble. He was stretched out on the ground, his arms pulled above his head. By the cold sensation he could feel around his wrists, and the fact that he couldn't move, he knew his hands had been chained to some sort of pole. An awkward twist of his head confirmed this, revealing that his legs had been subjected to the same treatment and his ankles had also been chained, leaving him flat out on the floor. There was a rough piece of material wedged between his teeth, and he knew immediately that whilst that was in, any rational thoughts would escape him, he could almost taste whatever the drug was._

_"...you know he won't talk." It appeared Arthur had woken up to a debate over what to do with him now._

_One man saw that he was awake, and smirked unpleasantly down at him before turning his attention back to his companions._

"_I __know __what __I__'__d __do __with __him.__"_

_"__What?__"_

_"__Pay __to __have __him.__"_

_"__You__'__d __pay __as __if __he __was __nothing __more __than __a __common __whore __to __extract __your __revenge?__" __The __second __voice __sounded __incredulous, __but __Arthur __had __tensed __in __horror, __and __although __he __would __never __admit __it, __fear. __Who _were _these __people?_

_"__Yep.__"_

_"You know, that might not be such a bad idea." Arthur was breathing heavily through his nose, giving up any attempt to pretend to still be out of it as his legs squirmed, trying to free themselves from the cold shackles keeping him bound. "There is a warlord further north that has a grudge against Uther. He once said something about wanting to get his hands on a Pendragon."_

_"So turn it into a business. Let everyone know the great Arthur Pendragon," the words were accompanied by a harsh kick into Arthur's stomach that, despite himself, had a groan forced out from behind the gag, "is at our mercy and that there is a small price to pay, but they can seek their revenge."_

"_You are a twisted man, Dunran."_

_"You haven't said no." Beginning to panic slightly about the cold and harsh way his captors were discussing his fate, Arthur lashed out, kicking at the post with both feet in order to try and get the post to give. The chains were too strong; his practical mind had told him that. But if he could slide free, maybe he would have a chance?_

"_Oh no you don't." His struggles seemed to make up the second man's mind, and he reached into a satchel resting on the ground by his feet, pulling a cruel looking poker out of it. Arthur thought his heart was going to burst through his chest. He knew what that was. Something that was not permitted in Camelot, and never had been. A brand. They meant to brand him like a common slave. _

_His struggles increased tenfold as the man let the poker rest in the fire, but three more men came over, looking mildly curious about the commotion. They seemed to realise what was going on. One drew a dagger and made swift work of cutting away Arthur's shirt, the other two taking his arms and legs and holding him still. Arthur tried to swallow back fear as the man approached, the poker now glowing hot. He glared with defiant eyes, but the man merely smirked, before lowering himself next to Arthur._

_One hand cupped the royal's cheek, causing Arthur to turn away, only to be forced back into position._

_"This is for all the people your father has hurt." Without any warning, he jolted the poker onto Arthur's shoulder, burning the skin beneath. For a moment, Arthur was able to control himself, but then the wave of pain hit him and he bucked wildly, eyes rolling. Eventually, a scream leaked through, muffled by the gag but loud enough for everyone to hear. As the man finally pulled away, gesturing for his men to let go of the restrained prince, Arthur slumped back onto the ground, body drenched in sweat as he tried to control his breathing. He was ashamed they had already managed to force a scream from him, but it hurt like nothing ever had before._

_Dunran wasn't finished though. "Let me add a little incentive." He muttered, before he too crouched next to Arthur. He placed one hand over the burn, ignoring the way Arthur's body reacted violently to his touch, and began chanting under his breath. The prince nearly blacked out again as he felt dark magic being forced into his body, but no sooner as his cling to consciousness snapped, something seemed to surge through his body, dragging him back again._

_"He'll never be able to escape the pain again." Dunran muttered, standing up again and smiling over at the man who had branded the prince. He smiled in thanks, eyes flickering between Dunran and the hyperventilating Arthur._

_"Go on then, have your prize." Dunran smirked coldly, and Arthur knew his torment was only just beginning._

_Muffled cries filled the air that night as Dunran took what he considered to be his prize for the very first time, leaving a broken and bleeding prince chained to the floor as dawn broke. It was a new day...and the beginning of Arthur's hell._

* * *

><p>There was a deathly silence as Arthur finished speaking. His voice had completely gone at the end, that being the most he had used it for months. Merlin had tears trickling down his cheeks, Gwaine looked sick and Lancelot pale.<p>

"I'm so sorry, Arthur. I should have been there, I should have found you..." Merlin's ramblings were stopped short by the prince himself.

"I'm glad you weren't. They would have killed you."

"But..."

"Shut up, Merlin." A grin spread across Elyan's face quicker than he could hide it. Another sign of their Arthur. He beckoned to the rest of the Knights, knowing that something was changing in the prince now that he had admitted to what had happened. One by one, they melted away, but Gaius lurked for a little longer.

The prince and his ward were talking softly, both clearly upset. But eventually, sleep stole up upon them. Arthur dropped first, still cradled in Merlin's arms, but the warlock followed suit, missing the knowing smile the physician sent their way.

Merlin hadn't used magic. The burn should have stopped Arthur drifting off to sleep that easily, but it hadn't. Not only was Arthur beginning to regain physical strength, he was healing emotionally as well. Gaius had been right in thinking the burn would nullify itself, and it looked like revealing what had happened that day, all those months ago, was the final step it needed.

Keeping an eye on the two as they both tried to ease their exhaustion, Gaius wondered whether now, Arthur could truly begin to heal.


	15. Chapter 15

**Sorry for the delay, reality caught up with me for a bit there!**

For a while, Gaius just stood watching the two young men sleep. He was glad that he was the only one present when a shimmering blue lightly suddenly arched into the air before settling over them and vanishing once again. Letting his foot nudge forward, he wasn't surprised when it felt like he had just kicked a stone wall. Even in sleep, Merlin was subconsciously trying to protect Arthur. The physician knew that returning to Camelot was going to be an adjustment for both of them, not just Arthur. Merlin had spent eight months searching in desperation, no longer thinking about when he was using magic, just doing it. Returning to the confines of a kingdom where that would get him killed was going to be a hard adjustment.

"How are they?" It took a moment before Gaius realised it was Gwaine talking to him. Gone was the confidence (although Gaius preferred to call it arrogance) from his voice, gone was the self assured certainty that nothing would be able to touch them. Gwaine was the Knight who always stayed optimistic, mainly because he would most likely be the one to charge head-first into a situation that required caution for it to be able to work successfully. Hearing him like this, Gaius knew that he was going to have his hands fall when he got back.

Arthur stirred slightly in his sleep, and the physician's eyes immediately flickered back to the slumbering pair. Gwaine stepped forward, before luckily the prince settled before he walked into Merlin's shield, stopping the Knight again.

"I hate seeing him like this." The quiet voice finally admitted. Before anything else could be said, Gaius beckoned Percival over to continue keeping guard, took Gwaine by the shoulder and steered him over to the fireplace. The young man sounded absolutely exhausted, emotionally as well as physically, and Gaius had to admit he was worried. He wouldn't forget the look on their faces when they had returned from finding Arthur's destroyed camp and his slaughtered horse. It wasn't only Arthur who needed to recover from the last eight months.

"What's on your mind? The truth, now." Gaius' blunt tone had always worked with Merlin in the past – unless he was trying to hide something particularly big – and the physician was relieved when it seemed to work with Gwaine as well.

"I can't get the look in his eye out of my head when that bastard took him again." Gwaine admitted quietly. Gaius squeezed his shoulder sympathetically. He too had not managed to shake the look of sheer helplessness Arthur had shot him over two weeks ago. Despite how much the prince appeared to be healing on the surface, Gaius knew that Arthur had always been good at hiding how much he was hurting. He just hoped the stubborn young man wasn't doing the same again now.

"We are all having to come to terms with things that we might not like in this, Gwaine. What they did to him..."

"It's not that as such. I'm not naive, Gaius. I walked the kingdoms for most of my life, even more so after my exile. I know the type of people who are out there, I know the sorts of things they would have done to him, especially those with a grudge. It's knowing he was literally seconds from doing it again. If Merlin hadn't decided that we needed to get out of that building when we did..."

"But you did get out. And you saved him."

"Did we?" Somehow, Gaius thought he was missing the point of what was really playing on Gwaine's mind here. It had been two weeks, and no one could deny how far Arthur had come. The fact that he was building up how long he could ride for each day, he had managed to confront some of his inner demons by being able to say what had happened, and especially now he had overcome the burn enough to sleep on his own. Not that Gaius could tell them that, they thought that had been happening for weeks now, not realising it was Merlin who was responsible for Arthur's recovery.

"Gwaine, what is this?"

"I know he has been recovering, anyone can see that. But have you felt the atmosphere, Gaius? I used to spend my whole time teasing him, deliberately winding him up because I knew precisely what would make him snap. Now I'm watching every word that comes out of my mouth, just in case it is something they did or said. Even Merlin's not joking with him the way they used to, the two of them won't let the other more than five paces away. What's going to happen when we get back to Camelot, Gaius? We know the King isn't going to stand for that."

Gaius had to admit, he was surprised. He had always considered Gwaine to be someone of a noble heart, but a rash head, a bad influence on Merlin at times. The man had never once shown the insight or depth that he was coming out with now, and the physician couldn't help but feel strangely proud. Even before spending two weeks with them solidly, the search for the missing prince had certainly formed bonds to such a depth Gaius would have never thought possible.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." Gaius said gently, placing his hand once more on Gwaine's shoulder. "He will get there, you know. If there is one thing I can say about Arthur Pendragon, and that is his stubbornness. He won't let this defeat him. Now go on, you should get some sleep."

Gwaine nodded somewhat glumly before shooting a wide smile at the physician, clearly trying to reassure the man that he was fine. Gaius saw through the look, however, It was Gwaine's way of asking the physician not to mention it to any of the others how he was feeling. Gaius had no intention too, not only because of his normal patient confidentiality rules, but because he had a feeling Gwaine wouldn't be the only one he had to have this conversation with. Elyan was beginning to guard Rand almost obsessively, and Gaius knew it was desperation to protect Arthur, even if it was too late, that was driving him to do so. Another problem for the old man to sort out.

In fact, Gaius decided that he was going to address Elyan now. If he could do it with Arthur still being asleep, the prince would never have to know how much his knights were suffering. Only when the time was right would Arthur find out. Right now, Gaius knew that if Arthur were to find out, he would somehow blame himself and that wouldn't help anyone.

"Elyan?" The Knight was so tense that he almost jumped at Gaius' soft word, spinning around to face the man before visibly relaxing, the grip on his sword slackening slightly even as he spared Rand another dark glance. Gaius followed his gaze and sighed. It was hard to hate a man who was nothing more than a broken shell.

"You should come and rest."

"I'm fine, Gaius."

"That wasn't a suggestion." For a moment, the two men simply stared at each other, both almost daring the other to back down first. Eventually, Elyan sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes and sheathing his sword for the first time in days. Gaius saw the wince and hurried forward, taking the man's hand in his own and beginning to try and ease the cramp out of his hand. He knew for a fact that Elyan had simply held on tighter and tighter throughout Arthur's tale. With a firm grip, Gaius stretched out his fingers, apologising at Elyan's wince, but not stopping until he was convinced that the man had feeling back.

"At least come and sit by the fire." He said quietly when he was done, knowing by the way the Knight's shoulders had dropped slightly that Elyan was beginning to give in. As with Gwaine, he had been putting on a mask, believing the others were coping whilst he was feeling torn up inside. Gaius would be happy to bet the others were feeling the same. Leon especially was going to take some work considering how much longer he had known Arthur than the rest of them. But if Gaius could even make the men just sit for a while, maybe have something to eat and get a little rest, then he would consider it a job well done.

Gently taking Elyan by the arm, he began to tug him slowly in the direction of the fire. He had meant what he said about it not being a suggestion, but luckily Elyan didn't seem to want to fight him. Glancing over, Gaius was glad to see that both Merlin and Arthur were still fast asleep. Merlin certainly needed the rest.

But fate hadn't once sided with them throughout the last eight months, instead trying to destroy them at every turn. This was to be no different. As soon as Gaius had pulled Elyan to one side, an arrow shot past him, making the physician's mouth run dry. If Elyan hadn't moved, he would have been shot in the back. Instead, the arrow lodged itself in someone else, causing a cry of both pain and shock to be emitted.

Gaius turned, surprised etched into his old features. With his hands bound, Rand could only stare at the shaft protruding from the bottom of his chest in surprise. He glanced up, pain filled eyes meeting Gaius's for a long second. The physician found his breath was caught in his throat as he stared at the men. Recognition had sprung back into Rand's face, he knew precisely where he was. But Gaius knew it was more than that. He knew _who_ he was.

"Rand?" Elyan spun. His sword had been out again the second he heard the cry of alarm, shouting out a warning. Percival had stepped over the sleeping pair into a more defensive position. Leon and Lancelot had both drawn their weapons and were heading over to Elyan, concern more than evident in both of their faces whilst Gwaine jumped up in sleepy confusion, staring around him wildly.

"Tell...tell A...Arthur I'm s...sorry." Rand managed to rasp. Gaius grabbed Elyan's knife from his belt and quickly cut the young man down, quick eyes scanning the wound. It seemed Rand knew the outcome as much as Gaius did.

"I'm f...free now." He muttered, a small smile crossing his face before his eyes slid shut and his body went limp. Gaius found he just held the man in shock. After everything Rand had clearly been through, to end this suddenly, this abruptly, Gaius didn't know how to react.

"Gaius, you have to get back to Arthur and Merlin." Elyan's frantic voice finally cut through the physician's blank mind, and he stared up at the young Knight. Elyan looked worried and slightly ill, and Gaius knew why. If it wasn't for the physician deciding that he needed some rest, that arrow would have hit him with the same deadly accuracy it had stolen Rand's life. Leon had reached them now, staring out into the trees even as another volley of arrows rained down on them.

Without any further ado, Leon grabbed Gaius' arm, bodily pulling him behind the tree as Elyan dived to the floor, crawling to shelter himself. With some frantic hand movements, Leon managed to warn Lancelot back, who in turn grabbed Gwaine's up just in time to stop the young man running straight into the path of danger once again. Leon seemed to be watching intently, his gaze flickering to different points in the clearing, but Gaius wasn't sure what he was doing/looking for until he suddenly swore.

"Percival!" Waiting until he had the big man's attention, Leon took a tentative step forward, leaping back again when an arrow only narrowly missed his feet. Taking shelter behind the tree, he locked eyes with the only Knight left in the open. "They are after Arthur!"

Percival's whole face darkened as he nodded his understanding. Gaius gazed at Leon in astonishment. How had he known that? With how their attire was, there was nothing that set Arthur apart from the rest of the group, unless they already knew who he was. Leon seemed to sense Gaius' gaze and pointed to where all the arrows were falling.

"They are keeping us back. But they aren't risking anything near the prince. He must be the target."

"Not this time." Gwaine had heard Leon's words even from across the clearing. In one movement, he had grabbed his shield, pulled it over his head and ran off into the trees. The rest of them watched him go in astonishment until a signal from Leon made Lancelot mirror his actions and sprint off after him.

"They'll double behind them." Leon explained, but the commotion had woken Arthur. He pulled himself out of Merlin's grip, made to get up and hit the shield, eyes widening in panic. Gaius cursed.

"Merlin, wake up!" He called, ignoring Leon's puzzled glance. This was the last thing they needed now, and if anyone was to ask, he would have said that he had awakened the boy so that he could protect Arthur. Luckily, Merlin heard his call, and even as his eyes opened, Gaius caught sight of them widening in alarm before flaring gold slightly.

The warlock caught sight of Arthur's tense position and knew what had happened. He jumped to his feet, a clear indication there was nothing holding him down, grabbed Arthur's arm and pulled him rather harshly into a nearby tree. Percival nodded his approval as he stepped in front of them once again. Arthur couldn't have been more protected, and yet the prince didn't seem happy. He was trying to throw Merlin off him, stop his servant from protecting him. In any other situation, Gaius would have been proud, it meant some of Arthur's pride was returning, but this was not the time for him to be stubborn.

Merlin eventually stumbled back a pace, Arthur's insistence that he move finally overcoming the weary warlock. No sooner had he stepped to the side, a thick arm shot out of nowhere, grabbing him. The arm encircled his neck and a dagger was pressed against the warlock's throat, causing Arthur to freeze and Percival to glance around him frantically, looking for some way to help Merlin without getting him killed.

For the first time since he had tried to find Arthur, Merlin felt the first flickers of true fear. His mind wasn't awake enough to be able to think of how to use magic to get himself out of the situation. Everything that came to mind still gave the man enough time to slit his throat on the way out, and dying really wasn't on Merlin's agenda any time soon.

His eyes glanced around, pleading for help even as his mind raced for a spell. Why couldn't he think straight? Part of him knew that it was because he had only just woken up and the shock of being sprung on was clouding his mind, but it was annoying him that he couldn't think of anything to help himself. His gaze accidentally fell on Arthur.

But the change that overcame the prince was one Merlin would never forget. The man had looked all but terrified; something his servant was not surprised about considering where they were. They had barely made it one step of this journey without something going wrong, and the fact they were still next to the clearing where Arthur had originally been captured was certainly not going to be helping matters. But as he locked eyes with his frightened servant, the fear all but melted. Merlin could almost see his head rise, and something flaring into life in his eyes. After a moment, Merlin realised what it was. Protectiveness.

He didn't have the chance to warn Arthur not to do anything stupid before the prince had moved. In a fluid movement, he grabbed the dagger hanging at Percival's side and thrown it. Merlin had his eyes scrunched up shut as the blade spun through the air towards him, his whole body tensing. Arthur had been tortured for eight months, just precisely how steady was his hand..?

But his fears were not needed. There was a sickening thud from behind him, a small gasp, and then the arm around his neck relaxed. Arthur moved forward, grabbing Merlin's arm and pulling his servant towards him as the assailant slowly toppled over. His legs shaking, Merlin just let Arthur hold him up, his breathing quick and shallow as he tried to process what had happened.

"Thank you, Sire." He eventually muttered, feeling the hand on his arm give it a small squeeze in return before letting go. Arthur turned to survey the rest of the clearing, but the battle was over. The man who had made it close to them was the only one to have done so. Lancelot and Gwaine had managed to stop the archers for long enough for the rest of the knights to join them in the forest, and in the time the two men had had their own battle, they had dispatched the rest of them.

"Common bandits." Gwaine declared in an overly loud voice. Gaius couldn't help but notice some of his previous confidence had returned, but the physician could see the lie reflected in his eyes. He just hoped Arthur didn't notice, but he appreciated what the man was trying to do. Arthur had just begun to recover, telling him he was once again the target was not going to be any help at all.

"Everyone should get some rest." Gaius declared loudly, glaring at them all in turn. He knew one of them would stay awake to keep guard, but considering it was late, there was no need for it to be more than one. He had a feeling there wouldn't be any other attacks tonight.

* * *

><p>But far up on a small hill, overlooking the entire battle, a furious sneer spread across prominent features.<p>

"Your knights might have been too good for thugs, but you are a marked man, Arthur Pendragon. I will have my prize." Acrotus knew that no one would hear him, he had killed the rest of the fleeing bandits himself to make sure that no one heard of what had happened here.

This was far from over. The bandits had been a desperate attempt to stop Arthur before he reached Camelot, but they were too close to the castle now. He couldn't risk another attack and word getting back to the King what was happening.

He had other methods, however. After all, it was well known that Uther welcomed any noble into the castle with open arms. He was going to invite his son's death in with a warm smile and open arms.


	16. Chapter 16

**I'm so sorry for the long delay. My plot bunny ran off with my muse and left me with double shifts at work - wasn't happy!**

Gwaine watched in an uncharacteristic silence as Arthur trained with Leon. Well, trained wasn't quite the right word, but under Gaius' careful supervision, they had slowly began on a program that would help build up Arthur's strength. Originally, Gaius hadn't wanted to start anything until they were back in Camelot, but the attack four days ago had changed his mind. Arthur hadn't slept for two days after that, despite Merlin's best efforts, and everyone knew – but wouldn't say – that he was terrified. It had been Leon who had approached the matter, claiming that Arthur was feeling weak, he could read the prince's body language well enough to know that was part of his terror. For eight months he had been unable to fight back, and now he was still feeling the same.

But watching them, Gwaine knew that wasn't the only reason why Gaius had agreed. Merlin couldn't have a part in this; there was nothing physical he could do to help Arthur regain his strength, no matter how much he was key to Arthur's mental state. Letting his eyes flicker away from the duelling pair, Gwaine instead looked towards the fire, where Merlin was sitting talking to Lancelot. The pair of them always seemed to bond well, Gwaine was no fool. He didn't miss the looks that were traded when they thought no one was looking. They had a secret...and Gwaine didn't care. One day, perhaps, they would tell him. But for now, he knew that Lancelot was just doing as Gaius had instructed and keeping Merlin occupied.

With both men being given tasks to do without them realising it, the rest of the party were trying to ease them away from each other. Uther would not react well to seeing his heir relying solely on his servant to basically keep him sane, especially not as it was now bordering on six weeks since the message had arrived that Arthur had been found. The knight knew that Gaius was worrying about how he was going to explain to the king that although whilst Arthur was healing physically, it was still going to take a long time before he overcame the mental barriers. But the physician knew that Merlin was also relying on being near Arthur as much as the prince was. His over protectiveness was bordering on worrying, especially after the usually gentle servant had nearly hit Elyan for being in between him and Arthur when the prince had cried out one night.

But the training was beginning to have the desired effect. At first, Arthur would only go a few moments before looking around for Merlin, and every time he turned, Merlin would be there, watching him carefully. Now, however, he had been training for Leon for almost half an hour, and hadn't once turned. Merlin, for his part, was completely engaged with whatever it was he and Lancelot were up too and hadn't checked on Arthur.

Across the camp, Gwaine caught Gaius' eye and grinned, flicking his gaze between the two young men to make his point. Gaius nodded softly, before resuming watching Arthur. Gwaine had come to learn a lot about the old physician over the last few weeks, and knew that it was what he _didn__'__t_ say that often spoke louder than anything that came out of his mouth. For instant, the way the corner of one eyebrow was turned down meant Gwaine knew the battling pair was only moments from having the fight called off. Although so saying, Gaius wasn't the only one who was noticing that Arthur was tiring. Even so, the improvement was amazing, and when he had flopped down by the fire the night before, barely able to keep his eyes open, the prince had been flushed with success, a grin making its way onto his face whenever he thought no one was watching.

"Enough!" Gwaine's predictions were spot on as Gaius' commanding voice rang out over the clearing and Leon immediately called the training to a halt. No one commented on the way Arthur all but collapsed to the ground, his muscles trembling slightly and sweat pouring off him. Since he began to use his voice again, the royal had been very vocal about he felt about them treating him like he was something fragile. But Gwaine knew he wasn't the only one watching with baited breath as Leon casually handed Arthur the water skin.

The prince took a long gulp, and Gwaine could sense Gaius moving in out of the corner of his eye. But then Arthur stopped and handed it back to Leon, seemingly oblivious of what he had just done. Glancing over at Merlin, Gwaine wasn't the slightest bit surprised to see that he was watching his master. Gaius' call would have gained the servant's attention, but there was a small smile of pride on his face as he turned back to continue his conversation with Lancelot. Arthur was finally beginning to be able to look after himself a little more, something they all knew would improve his confidence tenfold.

Now that the training had finished, everyone snapped to it. It was like they had all been in some sort of trance, clinging to the vague sense of normality of watching the prince train with his men. But now it was obvious how late in the day it was getting. They had travelled quite a distance that morning, stopping early. They all knew why they were stopping early. They all knew where they would reach tomorrow, something no one, not even Merlin, was quite sure how Arthur was going to react to.

"...so I want to leave about mid-morning and get..." Gaius broke off from where he had moved over to talk quietly to Merlin when Gwaine approached, but on seeing the Knight was alone, continued. "Get to Camelot late afternoon. Hopefully it will be getting dark and we can get Arthur inside with very little fuss and prying eyes."

Merlin nodded his understanding, and Gwaine found himself agreeing. Although there could be no denying the prince now was far more like the old Arthur rather than the broken shell they had first discovered, the marks of his torment were more than obvious. There had been a brief moment of panic when one of the marks on his back had become infected, meaning that the majority of the wounds were still bandaged up. Gaius wasn't taking any chances when he had such limited supplies. It was obvious what Arthur had been through, and they all knew that for his people, those who he had one day lead, see him like that...he would hate it.

"What about the king?" Merlin asked quietly, his resigned tone showing how long it had been since he last slept in a proper bed. It must have only been a handful of times since Arthur had been taken. He was getting a little more rest now that Arthur had begun to settle, especially when he would let the Knights near even without Merlin around. But even so, the servant looked exhausted.

"That's another reason for going in late. We can say Arthur needs rest, and that will give us at least until the next morning."

"Are you lot coming to eat before Percival scoffs the lot?" Elyan's laid back and friendly tone made Gwaine grin and he jumped to his feet, offering his hand to Merlin. He hauled the young man upright, and between them they helped Gaius to his feet. The physician was another one who looked in dire need of a good night's sleep, weeks in a forest at his age had not been easy.

A companionable atmosphere settled around the fire. The group had always been close, the events that had bonded them in the first place being far from normal. But having spent so long fighting to get Arthur back and alive, something else had changed. The bonds were deeper, messages being spoken without any words. But there was one person that was even quieter than he now normally was that night, and eventually Merlin sighed.

"What is it?" He demanded of the prince, turning everyone's attention to Arthur. It was only then they noticed that he hadn't touched his food. They may not have trusted him to drink on his own, but Arthur had shown that he had no desire to eat and had just picked. Although it also didn't escape their attention that as time had gone on, he was picking more and more until the meal was finished. Tonight, however, Arthur hadn't even taken a nibble.

"Nothing." The prince responded, refusing to look at Merlin as he scuffed his feet in the dirt around the fire. Merlin briefly shut his eyes, sighing in what appeared to be defeat before glaring at Arthur.

"Don't lie, Arthur. Not to me. What is it?"

"Nothing." Arthur repeatedly stubbornly, still refusing to look at any of them although he must have known they were all listening closely. It wasn't only Merlin who now worried almost constantly about what was going through Arthur's head.

"Then eat." Merlin all but ordered, and Leon wasn't the only one unable to hide his smile as Arthur moodily picked up his bowl and took a small mouthful. They knew this wouldn't be able to continue when they reached Camelot, that Merlin couldn't be seen telling Arthur what to do like this, even if it was for his own good. But for now, they were just glad that Arthur would listen to someone, or who knew how weak he would still be.

But whilst Arthur was beginning to slowly eat, Gwaine noticed that Merlin didn't take his eyes off the prince, a small frown appearing as he watched Arthur. Glancing at the prince himself, Gwaine couldn't figure out what had Merlin so worried until he finally saw what the warlock was seeing. Arthur was shaking.

"Elyan! You'll come and help me get firewood, won't you?" Gwaine's overly loud exclamation broke the silence throughout the camp, Lancelot jumping in surprise. Elyan looked astonished, Gwaine _never_ volunteered to fetch firewood. But he seemed to read something in his friend's expression and nodded. Leon caught on to what they were up to.

"Percival, help me patrol the border of the camp. Lancelot, help Gaius clean this up and get the bedrolls out." Percival rose to his feet and Lancelot nodded his understanding. They all set about with their tasks without complaint, something that was highly unusual these days. But eventually, Merlin was left alone around the fire with Arthur. The second Lancelot's chatter to Gaius faded away; he threw the bowl back down on the ground and crossed his arms over himself.

Merlin sighed as he moved forward. He knew that Arthur did this when he was feeling unsafe; it was some attempt to protect himself that he must have picked up in the hellhole he had been living in. Merlin hated to admit it, but it was Arthur trying to make himself smaller. Considering his confidence had nearly always bordered on arrogance before this, it all but broke Merlin's heart.

"What is it?" Unlike before, there was only softness in Merlin's voice now, gentle compassion as he moved around to crouch in front of Arthur, forcing the prince to look at him. "Arthur, please, what's wrong? Does something hurt? Do you want me to get something from Gaius?"

"No." Arthur's answer was so quick Merlin immediately knew he was lying, but still didn't move. Although Arthur clearly was in pain, the servant knew that wasn't the problem. Not all of it, anyway.

"Then what?" When Arthur didn't answer, but was clearly shaking more than before, Merlin sighed. He stretched out his own hand, forcibly unfolding Arthur's arms and sliding him down from the log he was on, making him sit next to Merlin on the ground. "Arthur, please, talk to me."

"How can I face him?" Arthur's words came out as nothing more than a whisper, but Merlin felt like the prince had shouted them. He didn't even need to ask who _he_ was. Arthur was scared of seeing Uther.

"He's been worried about you, Arthur. More than words can express." Remembering the pleading expression on Uther's face as Merlin had ridden out on that last morning; Merlin knew his words didn't do any justice for what the king must have been feeling. He may be called a tyrant by many, he may have done a lot of things Merlin wanted to hate him for, but there could be no denying how much he cared about his son.

"He'll be furious." Arthur argued, although his voice lacked the normal heat when he was disagreeing with his servant. He sounded hollow, lost. "I should have fought better. I should have escaped, I should have stopped them from..."

"Arthur, stop." Merlin interrupted gently, refusing to acknowledge the tears in his own eyes. Only Arthur could go through all of that and somehow believe that it was his own fault. "I saw how they had you ch...chained. You couldn't have got out of there if you tried..."

"I shouldn't have let him do it." This time, Merlin was surprised that Gaius on the other side of the clearing didn't hear the crack as he felt himself shatter.

"Arthur! Arthur, listen to me!" Moving around so that he was kneeling in front of the prince once again, Merlin cupped Arthur's face, forcing the prince to look him in the eye. "You didn't let anyone do it. I saw you, there was nothing left of you! Eight months you've been missing! Eight months they have been doing what they please! Don't you ever say anything like that ever again, you utter prat!"

Merlin had tears running down his face now. He couldn't believe that Arthur would actually see himself as weak after what he had been through. He had to be the strongest men the warlock knew. No one else could have been through that and recovered as much as the prince had.

"Eight months?" Arthur asked quietly, and Merlin knew this was the first time anyone had given him a timeframe. He mutely nodded.

"I didn't... didn't think it had been that long. And yet, it f...felt like forever. I thought it would be forever."

"I would have never given up trying to find you." Merlin promised, dropping his hands back and sitting by Arthur's side once more. Sighing, he wriggled down until his feet were just in front of the fire, his head resting on the log rather than using it to support his back the way Arthur was doing. He stared at the sky just as the stars were beginning to come out. This time tomorrow, they would be in Camelot. Who knew what would happen then?

"I know." Arthur responded quietly, mirroring Merlin's actions and lying down by the fire. He gently bumped Merlin's shoulder with his own. "I never said thank you."

"You never had to." Merlin muttered, finding himself unable to look at Arthur. Should he ever admit to the desperate measures he had been driven to, how half of Camelot's bandits were now cowering in fear of a ruthless sorcerer hell bent on finding his prince? How Gaius had warned him time and again that he was losing himself in the frantic attempts to find Arthur. It wasn't just the prince's life that had been saved the day Merlin stumbled on the building.

"Merlin?"

"Yes?" Now that darkness had fallen, Merlin was suddenly aware of how quick Arthur's breathing was. He was clearly working his way up to saying something, and whatever it was, he wasn't comfortable saying it.

"Tomorrow..."

"We get you home."

"No matter what happens," Arthur took a deep breath, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the sky to avoid looking at the man lying by his side. The man that was by his side no matter what. "Promise that you..."

"What is it?" Hearing Arthur break off again, Merlin rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow so that he could get a proper look at his master. He wasn't expecting Arthur to suddenly roll his head, looking his servant directly in the eye.

"Don't leave me?" It wasn't an order though. It was nothing more than a plea, almost a beg to not be left on his own. Merlin smiled gently.

"I promise. Now get some sleep, it's going to be tiring tomorrow." Arthur nodded, trying to get comfortable. Hearing him hiss as some wound brushed against something, Merlin tugged him over. By the time that Arthur's breathing had evened out, the prince had his head resting on Merlin's shoulder, trusting the sense of safety his servant seemed to provide even if he didn't understand why.

Merlin sighed, looking at the sky before closing his own eyes.

"For us all," he muttered, even as the warlock fell asleep, his mind wondering what the day ahead would bring.


	17. Chapter 17

**I'm so sorry! Just know that although it might take me forever to update, I'll never abandon this. It will get updated, and I promise to try and do it quicker than that. Big thanks for all the reviews and for those of you who are still with me here! Apologies again, life got in the way.**

There was a tense atmosphere in the camp the next morning as everyone began to pack away. Merlin knew that Arthur had barely slept, only because every time he shifted himself, the prince had his eyes open. Judging by the silence that had fallen amongst the knights, they hadn't received much rest either. Were they all that worried about facing the King they were losing sleep over it?

At the back of his mind, he knew that wasn't the case. Personally, he had no qualms about facing Uther in the slightest. The man's slight acknowledgment as Merlin had ridden out that last time was still burnt in his mind, even though he had been gone months himself. The King had known his son's loyal servant had not given up, even when the patrols were regretfully pulled back in to attend to other duties. Merlin had succeeded in what he set out to do, and he knew that Uther would see that.

The Knights he could understand a little better. Uther had never approved of them in the first place, but knowing how fiercely loyal they were to Arthur, had let it past. But they had technically failed in their duty at protecting the young prince, and Merlin knew they couldn't shake the state they had found him in from their minds. They were the lucky ones, they had only seen him once the poison was out of his body and he had spent a few days in Merlin's care. The warlock still couldn't get the image out of his head of Arthur hanging from those chains, helpless against Dunran's advances. But even now, weeks later, he still looked awful. And yet, in comparison to how he had been when Merlin first found him, the prince had come along leaps and bounds.

Not only were his physical injuries healing nicely, all but his back could now be left uncovered. Technically, even his back was good enough, but Gaius didn't want to take the risk, not when he was all but out of supplies. But it was more than that. He was talking again, and had even put on a little weight, something that had been helped by his new training regime with Leon. Merlin knew that if the Knights hadn't come when he asked them too, not only would both of them be lucky to be alive, but Arthur would not have made the progress he had.

But even so, Merlin was still worried about his prince. Physically he may have been healing, but he had no idea what was going through Arthur's head as he watched the Knight's joking about. The friendly claps on the shoulders, the nudging each other from side to side...Arthur could still not accept it. He still would not allow the others to touch him unless necessary, although thankfully did allow both Merlin and Gaius to approach.

As he watched Arthur watching the knights, Merlin sighed. He knew the prince had suffered from nightmares the night before, and knew that it was not the first time either. Arthur may have overcome the burn enough to sleep, but he was being plagued by what had happened to him, the night bringing no relief. Merlin knew that was only partly what had kept the prince awake for most of the night before. Despite Merlin's constant reassurances, Arthur was still scared of facing Uther. How could he convince his friend that his father wouldn't see him as weak, that the _people_ wouldn't see him as weak? Who else would be able to go through something like that and refuse to let it beat them?

"Merlin?" Hearing his name, the warlock jumped, looking around for the source of the voice before his eyes fell on Gaius. The physician was watching him closely once again, and Merlin found himself longing to get back to the castle. At least there, he would be able to escape the piercing gaze of his guardian at least every now and again. This time, however, Merlin knew better than to try and avoid the old man. Gaius had a look on his face that Merlin had come to interpret as something to do with Arthur when Gaius didn't want the prince knowing. Casting a sideways glance at his master, Merlin got to his feet and slipped across the clearing.

"What is it?" He asked quietly. Apart from that night, Arthur had been making good progress and Merlin had visibly seen the tension drain from Gaius. And it was no surprise to anyone why Arthur hadn't slept the night before, especially considering the scene that had played out over dinner. The prince hadn't seen Camelot for close to a year now, it was not going to be easy for any of them.

"I want you to take this." Gaius responded in a low tone, handing Merlin a small bottle concealed in his fist. For a moment, Merlin merely blinked at it, before his eyes widened in understanding and astonishment.

"Gaius, is this..?"

"A sleeping draught? Yes. If he gets agitated the closer we get, I want you to give it to him."

"But I..."

"Merlin, I won't be able to stop Uther from coming to him. I can warn him, monitor his behaviour, but Arthur has to face his father. He's only just beginning to recover; I can't afford any set-backs. He is still too clingy to you, and if Uther sees that, you will be forcibly removed from Arthur's side and that won't do anyone any good."

"I'm not sure; I think Uther might understand..."

"Merlin." Gaius' firm interruption made the young man look at him properly. It was only then Merlin realised just how _old_ Gaius looked. This long out in the forest certainly hadn't done him any good. The constant strain and worry over trying to look after not only Arthur, but Merlin and the Knights as well was clearly taking its toll, and Merlin found himself nodding.

"How do I know whether he will need it or not?" The warlock asked quietly. The last thing he wanted to do was to drug Arthur if the prince was handling things well. To his surprise, Gaius smiled softly.

"You know him better than anyone. You don't need me to tell you how you will know when he has had enough."

"Gaius, I..." Merlin wasn't even sure what he was going to say. That he had been fooling himself in thinking they would just be able to ride into Camelot and no one would notice they had Arthur with them? There was certainly no way the prince was ready to deal with a crowd yet. That he wanted to thank the physician for all that he had done, not just with the medical side of things and helping Arthur, but having to deal with the warlock's mood swings for the eight months the future king had all but vanished.

"I know, my boy." Gaius sighed sympathetically, laying a hand on Merlin's shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. Looking into his eyes, Merlin could see his guardian could read the inner turmoil, he knew what it was that Merlin was trying to express even if the warlock himself did not. "But it's over now. Give it a few hours and you'll be in your own bed."

Not knowing what else to say, Merlin just let himself be pulled into one of Gaius' rare hugs, suddenly struggling to hold it together. The topmost part of the turrets of the castle could be seen, Camelot was in view. Only a few more hours, and it would be over.

"Merlin?" Pulling away from Gaius, Merlin smiled at Leon through slightly watering eyes. But the Knight didn't seem to share his relief at how close this hell was to being over. He knew that it would be another challenge all together for the once confident prince to deal with not only his father – the King – but his return to duties. Somehow Arthur had to regain the confidence of being a leader, rather than someone who was constantly relying on his servant. The loyal knight couldn't help but wonder whether Arthur's recovery had only just begun.

"We're ready to go." He finished up shortly and somewhat lamely. Like Merlin, Leon had been trying to express his gratitude to what Merlin had done for the prince where they had failed. But he had caught one look at the hope beginning to shine out of Merlin's eyes with the idea of going home. The boy had looked so young, and so innocent despite the things he had seen and witnessed. And Leon couldn't bring himself to remove that look from him.

Merlin nodded, giving Gaius' arm a squeeze but moving away, the bottle hidden in his hand. He truly hoped that he wouldn't have to use it. He had spent the best part of the night reassuring Arthur that everything was going to be alright. Maybe for once the prince had actually listened to him and would be able to keep calm? Moving across the clearing to Arthur, Merlin made sure he cleared his throat before approaching. They had all learnt the hard way that sneaking up on the prince was not the fun idea it used to be.

Arthur was standing, leaning against a tree with his arms crossed over his chest. His posture looked so relaxed, so normal that was easy for a moment to believe it was just a hunting party returning. But then Merlin looked at his eyes. Arthur's gaze was locked on the part of Camelot that could be seen, and there was something desperate in the intensity of his gaze. Merlin made to say something, and then caught himself, recognising the expression. No matter what his worries were, Merlin wasn't the only one glad to be getting back. There was longing in Arthur's gaze.

"It's time, Sire," Merlin said softly, taking Arthur's arm to lead him over to the horses. Arthur let himself be led along, but didn't tear his eyes from the view until Merlin rested the prince's hand against his horse, grounding the young man. Percival approached, the same way he had done every day with the intention of helping Arthur onto his horse.

But this time, the prince shook his head adamantly. Merlin could see the determination taking place of the longing in his eyes and knew that this was a battle Arthur was determined to win by himself. He caught Percival's eye and grimaced slightly. Percival caught the message and grinned, but subtly beckoned Leon over as well. The two knights took up position on either side of the horse, in position should Arthur need them, but not crowding him.

Arthur certainly didn't rush. He let his fingers curl into the mane of the animal, and seemed to be talking to it softly. Not that Merlin would have ever told the old Arthur this, but he did have a way with the horses, having been raised riding them. Whatever he was saying was too quiet to hear, but the horse turned it's head and butted Arthur in the arm, almost telling him to get on with it. There was a slight smile on the prince's face as he steadied himself, not realising the entire clearing was watching with baited breath as he relied on the strength of his arms to pull himself up.

For a moment, Merlin didn't think he would do it. He had become so used to Arthur failing things physically over the last couple of months, he didn't even stop to think as he moved forward to assist his master. But it seemed the training with Leon had paid off in more ways than they perhaps realised, and by the time Merlin reached the horse, Arthur was on top. He looked slightly pale, and Merlin was sure he was the only one who saw him momentarily close his eyes and take a deep breath. But then he opened them again, and Merlin could see him fighting to keep a grin off his face.

The warlock went to congratulate his master, but Gaius caught his eye and jerked his head sharply, stopping the words and causing Merlin to stumble over.

"What?"

"Act like it was nothing out of the ordinary."

"But Gaius," Merlin protested, not understanding. "He tried that a couple of weeks ago and ended up out cold from over exerting himself. It is out of the ordinary!"

"I know, Merlin. But he wants things to return to normal, and congratulating him on mounting his horse is not ordinary. Besides, this is good in more ways than one."

"What do you mean?"

"He's wanting to do things for himself. Even a week ago, he was still relying on you and the Knights. Yes, you could see that he hated being weak, but the lot of you were constantly fussing over him, and Arthur knew it was easier to let you get your way than to try and fight against you all. Now, he's not letting you help. Considering we are returning to Camelot and most likely going to see the King, that is good, especially for you."

Merlin simply blinked at him before a call from Leon had him hurrying over to his own horse. As per usual, he fell in next to Arthur. Elyan and Lancelot were ahead, Gwaine directly behind them with Gaius and Percival and Leon taking up the rear. The same way they had ridden for weeks, and Merlin found it was slightly strange thinking that he was going to wake up in his own room tomorrow and not have to travel anywhere but down the corridor to Arthur's chambers.

He kept a close eye on the prince as they rode, Gaius deliberately making them keep the pace slow as to not tire him out. Merlin also knew the later they got back, the less time Uther would have to try and question his son, something none of them were sure whether Arthur was ready for. But a gleam had begun to appear in Arthur's eye, something that had been missing for far too long.

The guards on the gate simply stared for a long moment at the dusty and exhausted party picking their way up the road much later that afternoon. It was late, the sun just beginning to go down again, but both Gaius and Arthur had small smiles of satisfaction on their face. When the guards eventually regained their wits at seeing the presumed dead prince riding with the knights, an almighty shout went up.

Despite it being late, the town was packed when the knights finally reached that part, everyone gathering to see their beloved prince return. Merlin found he had a smile on his face as he watched the delight spring into the expressions on their faces. He knew deep down that he wasn't the only one who hadn't given up on Arthur, and watching him being welcomed back after being missing for a year, he knew he was being given a glimpse of the type of King Arthur would one day be.

But the crowds began to press in on the knights, their excitement at seeing Arthur driving away any rational thought about what their presence might be doing. They were all over him, hands reaching out to make sure their future King was truly back with them. Merlin's smile slipped as he glanced at Arthur out of the corner of his eye. The prince had gone pale, eyes staring straight ahead, breath hitching slightly erratically.

As Merlin frowned, he realised that Arthur's breathing was getting worse, short shallow breaths being sucked in forcibly. Considering how well Arthur had dealt with the approach so far, Merlin couldn't work out what was wrong. But then he saw how close the people had got. They weren't just reaching out, they were touching him. Hands were all over Arthur, innocently placed but sending Arthur into the darkest part of his mind as another landed on his thigh.

"Leon!" Merlin yelled, his horse sensing his distress and whining slightly, tossing it's head. Leon was by his side in an instant, and without having to be told, began yelling orders. The rest of the Knights closed in, driving the crowd back and Gwaine angrily slapped away some of the hands. The people hadn't meant anything by it, but considering what Arthur had been through, he wasn't reacting well, his breathing steadily getting worse to the point of hyperventilation.

"Merlin, the draught!" Gaius called, dismounting as they got into the courtyard, Merlin slipped from his horse and practically dragged Arthur down, Elyan's timely intervention stopping both the prince and his warlock from hitting the stones in a tangle.

"It's okay, Sire, you're back. They are gone..." But Arthur didn't answer, and Merlin knew they had to work fast. The prince had grown used to the safety of the knights, but still hadn't encountered anyone else since he had been freed. The last big crowd he was in the presence of had tortured, beaten and raped him, repeatedly for months on end. He was still staring ahead, breathing shallow and no colour left in his cheeks. It had taken time to make Arthur talk when they had freed him; Merlin was not going to let them revert back to that.

"Arthur!" The yell came from the castle steps, and Merlin groaned at seeing Uther appear. There was hope shining out of the monarch's eyes, an almost desperation appearing. Merlin gasped as he felt Arthur's hand scrunch in his shirt, knuckles going white as he held onto his servant in a way that had once been familiar during the early weeks of recovery.

"Merlin, now! He can't take much more of this!" Gaius was right. Despite holding onto Merlin, Arthur was shrinking backwards into himself, staring around the castle in almost confusion. He dragged Merlin forwards slightly as the prince backed away, but Lancelot slipped behind him, stopping Arthur from going any further. They were all used to what they had to do when Arthur had bad turns these days.

Gwaine caught Merlin's eye and nodded, moving to one side of Arthur. The prince didn't seem to notice him as Gwaine tipped Arthur's head back onto Lancelot's shoulder, and Merlin emptied the phial down his throat. The effect was immediate, both Gwaine and Lancelot having to grab Arthur to stop him from flattening Merlin as he fell. The three of them guided the unconscious prince to the ground, Merlin cushioning his head in his lap as they waited for Gaius' signal that they could move him.

Merlin looked up to see the knights, his friends, watching in resignation that this wasn't over. But behind them, he caught a glimpse of another face, one twisted in shock and anger.

"What's wrong with him?" Uther spat, his worry giving way to anger as a way of expressing his emotions as he stared down at his motionless son. Merlin was just glad most of the physical damage was no longer visible.

Gaius muttered something to Leon, no doubt instructions for the prince, and took Uther by the arm, gently beginning to lead him back into the castle, talking in a soothing voice as he did so.

"Come on then," Leon eventually sighed, causing Elyan and Percival to move forward as well. Merlin knew they were all hoping that it wouldn't have ended like this. "Let's get him to his room."

Hoisting the unconscious prince onto their shoulders, Merlin following after tipping the stable boy to sort out their horses for him, the knights proceeded directly to Arthur's chambers. Merlin knew the same thought was in all of their head's.

What happens now?


	18. Chapter 18

_Thank you so much once again. Hope everyone had a lovely Christmas and Happy New Year._

Merlin couldn't help but feel slightly guilty. After the Knights had got Arthur back to his room, Gaius had turned up and immediately sent them all to their own chambers for some much needed rest. There had been the token protests, but the physician had got his way. It was strange seeing them leave. The group had been together for so many weeks now, Merlin couldn't help but note how large Arthur's room seemed when it was just him, Gaius and the unconscious prince present.

But once they had finished settling Arthur, Gaius had turned that gaze onto him, and Merlin had immediately gone defensive.

"I'm not leaving him." He said firmly before his guardian even had the chance to open his mouth. One eyebrow rose in Gaius' trademark expression, but Merlin set his own face. They hadn't gone through everything that they had only for the servant to be sent away at the last moment. Arthur hadn't even moved since they had lowered him onto his bed, the drug keeping him under. The rational part of Merlin's mind knew that he wouldn't stir either, but he still couldn't bring himself to leave his master.

Eventually, Gaius had won. Merlin still wasn't sure how he had done it, but was just blaming it on being more tired than he was admitting to. But then the warlock managed to make himself feel bad. Not only had he left Arthur when he had sworn he would stay by the prince's side, he had managed to get a servant to come and get him the second they knew Arthur was awake. Merlin was no fool, he knew he was exhausted. As soon as he relaxed, he would be gone. But Arthur would stir when the drug wore off, and despite seeming to be excited about coming home, Merlin was not sure the prince would realise where he was.

The warlock was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillows, the tension and stress draining out of him. They were back, Arthur was safe. He once again had an entire castle at his beck and call to keep him safe, the responsibility was not just Merlin's. Gaius could get what he needed, and Merlin knew the rest of the bandages would be off in a couple of days. Away from the forest and with treatment readily available, they could risk the open air getting to the wounds without worrying about infection. Merlin wasn't even sure there was a risk anymore, barely any of them were still open. Yet he was sure there was something else, almost as if Gaius had kept Arthur bandaged as a way of providing a barrier.

Uther was not one to accept that his son maybe suffering more mentally than he was physically, By making Arthur appear weak, as if injuries of the flesh had not yet been able to heal properly, it stopped Uther from assuming his son was fine for long enough for Gaius to explain the situation. Merlin's mind was buzzing with possibilities of what the physician might have said to the King even as his body sagged against the welcoming comfort of his body, all the tension drained away and the warlock fell asleep.

It was dark when he felt a hand on his shoulder, and used to being on guard, Merlin sat up suddenly with a shout, only just stopping himself from lashing out with magic. An apologetic guard was standing over him, looking awkward and rather large in the small room, and Merlin's heart calmed down from its frantic race.

"What's wrong?" Merlin asked quietly, mindful that Gaius could still be asleep. The guard shifted anxiously, and Merlin realised it was as if he was nervous. Nervous of what Merlin might do because of what he had to report.

"It's the prince." Merlin was up and out of bed almost before the poor man had finished getting the sentence out. Luckily, the guard had quick reactions for the warlock almost lost his balance as his vision swum slightly from moving too fast. Nodding a thank you at the man, Merlin pulled on a clean shirt – itself a luxury - and bid the man to continue.

"We know he is awake, we can hear movement. But he's..."

"He's what?" Merlin didn't realise that the entire castle knew about his constant efforts to find Arthur. He had been so focused during those months; it was as if the story had spread like wildfire that the devoted servant would not give up. Glancing at the guard, Merlin almost did a double take. It was like the man seemed to believe that instead of Gaius, or even his own father, it was the servant who was responsible for the prince's welfare. Why else would they fetch the warlock in the middle of the night rather than waking Gaius? Part of Merlin was glad, he had been increasingly worried about the old man and the exhaustion, but could he really give Arthur what he needed?

"Not sure." The guard said with an apologetic shrug, following obediently as Merlin jogged down the stairs to the main chambers. Even in there, there were signs that Gaius too had been away. Merlin didn't want to think about how long it would take the physician before he made his ward clean the leech tank.

"You're not sure?"

"We can't get in. He seems to have barricaded the door with something."

_Oh Arthur, _Merlin couldn't help but think sorrowfully to himself. _You fool._

Was the prince that scared about being back behind a wall that he no longer realised that he was safe in his own chambers, where nothing would be able to hurt him again? The Knights may not have been directly surrounding him like normal, but they were still there. No one was going to let anything happen to him.

"I'll get in." Merlin responded confidently. He was certain that Arthur would let him in, and if he didn't, a mere barricade was not going to stop Merlin. He knew that once again, he would have to be exceptionally careful of how he used magic, but he was not going to let that stop him from getting to Arthur. It had been too easy in the woods, Arthur being more oblivious than normal and Merlin just making sure the knights was looking the other way. With both Gaius and Lancelot out there with him, he had relaxed with how he used it. Possibly also because he had been forced to use magic on the prince time and time again, and Arthur had never realised.

They made it back to the room in silence, the castle deserted apart from the odd servant or guard here or there. It was strange being back after this length of time. But as they approached Arthur's chambers, Merlin frowned.

The guards were trying to do their job of protecting Arthur. Unfortunately, they saw it as from himself, and were attempting to force the door, making loud noises as they did so.

"Stop!" Merlin immediately ran forward, grabbing one man by the arm and trying to tug him away. The man spun sharply, and it was only a lucky duck that stopped Merlin being cuffed over the head. The servant groaned- it was one of the more senior guards who had been summoned when the normal ones couldn't get in- and Merlin knew this man did not approve of his relaxed relationship with Arthur. Little did he know how that had changed.

"I told you to get reinforcements." He snapped at the guard who had fetched Merlin, glaring. Merlin stepped in front of the poor man.

"He did." He said coldly. He had not battled through everything in order to be kept from Arthur now. "I can get in, let me try. You're sca... not doing him any good, trust me."

"Go back to bed, boy. Let those who have sworn to protect the prince do their job." Merlin suddenly knew where some of that bitterness came from. He had found, and saved, the prince when those who had spent their whole lives trying to protect Arthur had failed. He had a feeling they wouldn't be too happy with the rest of the Knights either – commoners succeeding where nobility could not.

"You're not helping, let me through!" Merlin protested, moving forward and trying to force his way through. The other guard had stopped, looking conflicted, and Merlin knew the man could see the sense in letting Merlin try. What harm could it do?

"Back _away, _servant," the man snarled, grabbing Merlin by the front of his shirt and bodily pushing him away as the young man tried to push through.

"Let him through." Everyone froze, Merlin feeling like his heart was going to burst out of his chest it was hammering so hard. Leon was standing there, scowling at the man who was technically his second. But that wasn't what had Merlin's mouth going dry. Uther was standing next to him, and it had been the King's voice that had rang out.

"But Sire, we can hel..."

"The boy helped when no one else could. And the physician has explained that the prince often only reacts to his servant now. Something he assured me Arthur will get over." Here, Uther paused and almost glared at Merlin, who lowered his eyes to the floor. It was clear Uther was reacting as they thought he would to finding out his son and heir only responded well to his servant, but Merlin was just glad that Gaius had said something. At least it meant that he had a few more days of getting Arthur settled before he was forced to draw back.

The captain moved back a pace, gesturing at the door with a movement that could almost be considered sarcastic. Merlin knew it was only the King's presence that stopped anything else being said, but he had to feel thankful for Leon's reassuring presence. He would have been a wreck of nerves if it had been just him and the guards.

Slowly approaching the door, Merlin experimentally pushed against it. Whatever Arthur had barricaded it with wasn't strong, and frankly, Merlin was surprised the guards hadn't broken through. As the original guard who had fetched him gave a small smile, Merlin's eyes widened in understanding and surprise. It wasn't until the captain had arrived that they had even tried. They knew Arthur had taken measures, so immediately came to fetch Merlin. People may not have known what had befallen the prince, but they knew how to react to it.

"Arthur?" For once, Merlin was forgetting the king was there. Arthur wasn't going to react to him if he tried the approach formally, and he just hoped that Gaius could give Uther another explanation that would let him allow Merlin to talk to Arthur any way he wanted. There was a shuffling noise, but the door didn't budge. "I know you are in there. I'm right here, Arthur, just as I said I would be. Come on, let me in?"

There was no response, but Merlin could sense that Arthur was listening. Judging by where the noise was coming from, he sounded as if he was the other side of the bed. Merlin gave the door another small push, and shut his eyes. The golden glow that flooded his irises was lost behind the closed lids, but something on the other side of the door shifted slightly. If Arthur was looking, it would simply look like it was falling.

But it was enough. Merlin managed to get the door to open just enough for him to squeeze through. Certainly no man bigger could have made it. As soon as he was in, the warlock shut and locked the door, moving the barricade back into place. If that was what Arthur needed to feel safe, then that was fine by Merlin now he was on the right side of the door.

"Arthur?" For a long moment, he couldn't see the prince. The bed was empty, as was his chair. Then Merlin heard a slight noise and followed the sound, moving to the other side of the bed. Arthur was on the floor, sitting against the wall with his knees drawn up to his chest, the bedclothes spooling around him.

"What happened?" Merlin asked gently, moving forward and crouching down in front of Arthur, but making sure he kept back. Arthur was fine with contact from Merlin, if he initiated it. There would have been a time when Arthur denied that anything was wrong, despite the fact that he was pale and had obvious tear streaks down his face. He had his sheet in one hand, and as Merlin watched, he was twisting it anxiously.

"So many hands... they were everywhere," he whispered hoarsely, and Merlin sighed. He had hoped the sleeping draught would have made Arthur forget what had caused him to panic in the first place. But luck had never been on their side.

"He can't hurt you again, Arthur." The servant was quick to reassure his prince, and without thinking, he reached out a hand and tugged the sheet from Arthur's worrying hands.

"And the bed was so b..big... yet I couldn't move, it was too heavy." Merlin didn't see that one coming.

"Arthur, it's just your bed. The one you've had for as long as I've known you. Your nice, big, luxurious, comfy bed..." Merlin stood up, intending to climb onto said bed to show that it was fine. But his foot caught in the sheet and he stumbled, and was suddenly hit with a flash of understanding. They had put Arthur to bed properly. For someone who hadn't had that for over a year, the covers would have been heavy for the prince, almost suffocatingly so. He would have been weighed down, barely able to shift them as his body fought off the rest of the drug, whilst hearing guards outside. No wonder he wasn't happy.

"Do you want to sleep on the floor?" Merlin asked quietly. It was just a show of how bizarre things were that he even considered it. What was stranger was that Arthur, the Crown Prince of Camelot and Future King, tentatively nodded. Merlin smiled, moving the sheets around until he had them laid out across the floor and gestured for Arthur to lay on them. He had to find a way of working Arthur up to the bed, and although he would still feel the reassuring hardness of the floor that he was now used to, it would be softened somewhat dramatically at the same time.

As Arthur fidgeted, Merlin stood up. He picked up one of Arthur's blankets, bringing it down to the floor and slowly drawing it over Arthur's legs. As the prince slowly relaxed into it, Merlin drew it up to his waist. Time and time again they repeated the process as Arthur adjusted to the weight. It was heavier than the blanket they had been using in the forest, but nowhere near the weight of the full covers. Hopefully it would be a good adjustment for him.

Finally, they were ready, and Merlin was pleased to note that Arthur was already beginning to drift back off to sleep. With any luck, he wouldn't have been awake long. Unfortunately it was long enough for him to panic. Pushing a pillow under the sleepy prince's head, Merlin leant back on the wall, watching Arthur closely. Before long, the man had drifted back off, and Merlin felt a great weight leave him, almost as if they had just overcome something big.

With a wave of his hand, he unlocked the door and removed the barricade. It didn't sound as if anyone had tried to get in whilst he had been in here, Uther no doubt wanting to give the servant time to settle Arthur. But whether they heard the lock click, or just knew that Arthur had relaxed, the door creaked open.

There would have been a time when Merlin jumped to his feet at seeing the King enter the room. But his movement would have disturbed Arthur, and Merlin was not going to let that happen. Instead, he merely raised his eyes in acknowledgment, making sure Uther knew he wasn't being ignored.

The king may not have been ignored, but Merlin was. Uther only had eyes for his now sleeping son, the distress still apparent by the clear sign that Arthur had been crying, not to mention the fact that he was sleeping on the floor. The father watched the son for a long moment, conflicting emotions shooting across his face. Merlin could almost see the battle – King or Father? Was Arthur a prince or a son right now?

"Look after him." Uther muttered gruffly and strode from the room without a backwards glance. But that was good enough for Merlin. He took it as the man accepting Arthur was not alright, and it would possibly take a long time until he was. He was also accepting that Merlin could help, despite their differences in status.

Merlin couldn't ask for more. Watching the steady rising and falling of Arthur's chest the same way he had done for many nights now, Merlin found himself relaxing. They were actually home. Arthur's hand flung out to the side, but Merlin was too comfy to now move. He too drifted back off to sleep, their fingertips touching.


	19. Chapter 19

**To whoever reviewed asking if this was going to be slash - no. The fingertips bit is to show that Arthur relies on Merlin for a feeling of safety rather than anything else.**

**This one was really hard to write, Uther's emotions bounced around like who knows what. **

It was reasonably early in the morning when the message spread amongst the servants to stay away from the corridor around the prince's chambers. Considering how many of them had been hoping for a glimpse of the missing heir, it came as a disappointment. But when they learnt the reason behind the advice, all scurried in the opposite direction. None of them wanted to get in the pacing King's way.

Uther had risen at dawn, unable to sleep any more. He should feel relieved, Arthur was back and safe, not to mention clearly recovering from what Gaius had told him. The physician had given him a rough account of Arthur's injuries when he had been found, and the normally unmoveable King had found his stomach rolling slightly. This hadn't just happened to one of his subjects, it had happened to his _son. _Whilst Gaius had not explained how the injuries had come about, Uther had seen enough of war and the violence of men to have an idea of what had happened. And it certainly made him want to execute a few people. But he had no one he could, no idea where any of his son's tormenters were, or even who they were.

The only name Gaius had managed to give him had made Uther pale so fast the physician had been forced to shove a stool somewhat viciously under the king's knees. There had been a reason why Dunran had been cast from Camelot nearly ten years ago, and the thought that he had had his hands on Arthur made Uther want to be sick. He knew the man's reputation; the evidence against him had been overwhelming when the King had made his decision all those years ago. Many of Uther's sentences had been met with a stony silence as people tried to comprehend whether it was deserved or not. This one had been met with cheers all around as the rapist had been thrown bodily from the city.

Which was why Uther could now be found pacing outside of Arthur's chambers, trying to rid his mind of the idea that perhaps Arthur had been pushed too far this time, that he might not be able to just bounce back in his normal way. Gaius had been blunt, explaining how Arthur had refused to talk at first, not just about what had happened, but in general. And how he seemed to relate his manservant with the feeling of safety. Uther had been prepared to dismiss it; he knew how sentimental his physician could become when it was someone he cared about that was hurt. But then he had witnessed what had happened in the night, saw how the boy seemed to know what it was that Arthur needed and how his own son had reacted positively.

Sighing in frustration, Uther completely ignored the way the guards were doing their utmost to not look in his direction as the pacing King tried to get his mind around what was happening. He had absolutely no idea how he was supposed to treat Arthur. Did he act like before and hope that Arthur had recovered enough to be able to respond to it? He knew it had been months now since they had got him out, the physical evidence of how much he had healed showed that. Or did he treat his heir like something that had been broken, much as it would pain him? He knew that if Arthur was regaining his strength, being treated as weak would infuriate him. Uther knew there was too much of him in the boy, if angry; Arthur would try and do something rash. Uther may be the King and therefore the most powerful man in Camelot, but Gaius still had a way of making him feel like a boy doing something wrong. He knew the old physician had the same affect on his son, and it made him smile slightly.

As he turned to retrace his steps down the corridor, Uther suddenly froze, listening hard. He couldn't believe that he hadn't noticed it before, but there were voices coming from Arthur's room. He didn't recognise them, and for a moment, the normally strong King panicked. He couldn't lose Arthur again, not now, not after everything. Without warning, he burst through the door, hand automatically drifting to where his sword was resting on his hip. He had not been able to do anything but send out search parties for the prince when it was clear something had happened to Arthur. He was not going to make that mistake again.

Yet the sight that greeted him was not one that Uther was expecting. The room was filled with Knights. But it was no wonder that the king hadn't recognised their voices, for it was his son's knights, the peasants that Arthur had allowed to rise through the ranks. He just about knew their names – Arthur could be most insistent and damn stubborn when the mood took him – which allowed him to identify where each of them were sitting.

Leon, he knew. The leader of the Knights under Arthur, the man was still bolt upright, clearly not relaxed enough to sprawl in the way some of the others were. But it still surprised Uther how much the young man had accepted the others, watching them with a fond smile from where he was resting against the window, even if his face did morph into a shocked expression when Uther made his entrance.

Gwaine, the one who was often found starting tavern fights. Oh, Uther knew about him well enough. How many of the men had tried to file a complaint about him, get him cast out once again. Uther had let Arthur handle it though, knowing he needed to win the others over, and sure enough, Gwaine was still here. Right now, he was sitting in Arthur's chair, his feet swung up on the table and eating an apple. His expression was almost comical at the King's arrival.

Then there was Elyan, the quiet one that seemed to have a reserved personality about him. Uther even had to admit to having vague memories of this knight as a young boy when he had inspected the forges in the lower town, a show to make the people think he cared. Tom had been a good blacksmith, and Uther remembered for a long time his son watching closely. It was one of the reasons why he had remembered the sister when choosing a maidservant for his ward. He was sitting cross legged in front of the fire, mirroring the position of the large one who was sitting next to him.

Lancelot was the final one that Uther saw, right by the door as if keeping watch. The king blinked around at them all, his mind finally beginning to process what he was seeing. It wasn't just the servant that Arthur was reacting to, but the company of his men. Men who had seen him broken, bleeding and defeated, and yet had still stood by him and done all they could in their power to protect the young royal. It was the type of loyalty that Uther could only dream of, and he knew that he had no business interrupting whatever sanctuary his son could find. Not that Arthur had noticed, he was still fast asleep.

The one person who actually met Uther's eyes before dropping them hastily was that servant again. He was sitting by Arthur's side, combing his fingers through the prince's hair, although his hand immediately shot away at Uther's look. The King locked a steely gaze on him and motioned for the servant to join him outside. He had some decisions to make. Ignoring the way the other knights all suddenly looked concerned for the boy, the king strode out.

Not before hearing the muttered command the _servant_ gave the _knights._

"Look after him."

Uther waited just down the corridor for the boy to catch up with him, making sure they were out of earshot of the ever present guards. He didn't want Arthur's vulnerabilities spreading around the castle.

"Why were you doing that?" He almost snapped as soon as the anxious youth stopped before him, eyes on the ground. When Uther spoke, however, his head lifted defiantly.

"The prince likes it." He stated boldly, looking Uther square in the eye and almost challenging the king to stop him from helping Arthur. "No one showed him the slightest hint of affection for the eight months he was in that hell hole. It was the only way I could get him to calm down to start with, and was the only part of him that wasn't injured in some way. Since then, if he is restless, it calms him down. He had just suffered from a night of nightmares; I wasn't going to let boundaries stop me helping him."

Uther raised an eyebrow smoothly at how defensive the boy sounded and had to admit to feeling a rush of respect. This Merlin was the only reason why Arthur was alive and back in Camelot, yet the King couldn't just bring himself to accept how familiar he was being with his master.

"Now that he is settled, you shall resume your expected distance from the prince." He said bluntly, making to turn and leave it at that. He wasn't going to punish the boy for overstepping his mark, not when it came to Arthur's wellbeing. But neither was he going to let it continue. He had made up his mind. Arthur must get strong again, for if rumours started that Camelot's heir may never again be fit to be a leader, the results would be catastrophic. Uther knew he had to think of the Kingdom as well as his son now.

"No." The King had almost completed his turn when the one word echoed from behind him and the temperature seemed to drop.

"No?"

"No." The boy responded, red patches beginning to appear on his cheeks and his eyes shining in an overly bright manner. "I'm not going to go through all of that only to be kept away from him now. He was terrified about returning here for fear of how you would react, and if you keep me away from him, his fears will become true, I swore I wouldn't leave him."

Uther saw red and before he knew what he was doing, he had backhanded the overconfident servant. How dare he suggest that Arthur didn't want to return home for fear of his own father? Merlin's head rolled with the slap, but he didn't drop his gaze. Uther grabbed his upper arm and dragged him down the empty corridor. When he reached an empty room, he threw the boy in, walked in himself and locked the door behind him.

"Do you know what I could have done to you for disobeying a direct order from your king?" This was a situation he was more than familiar with, and in a way, it was nice being back on familiar territory rather than contemplating the fragility of his son's mind.

"No worse than I've already seen." Merlin muttered, standing to look out of the window, his posture finally showing the defeat Uther wanted to see. But it was for the wrong reasons, he knew what seemed to bring the boy down was thinking about what had happened to Arthur. Uther remained silently, prompting the boy by his body language to carry on talking. He needed to know what had happened to his son, what it was that Gaius wasn't telling him. For someone whom he had always considered to be a bit slow, Merlin took the hint.

"Dunran took him that first night. On his hands and knees, like a dog." Merlin's voice was hollow and emotionless, and Uther suddenly wondered if he really wanted to know. But something in him told him that he had to know in order to even contemplating understanding.

"It took them three weeks to get to where I found him." The boy continued. Merlin was thinking hard about what Arthur had told him one night. He didn't want the others knowing everything, but somehow seemed to understand that he had to talk about it. "For three weeks he was chained behind a horse and forced to run. Every time he fell down, they beat him until he could make it to his feet again. Every time they stopped, Dunran had his way with him. But Arthur was still fighting when they got there, so they chained him to the floor by his wrists and ankles and...and..."

Merlin went exceedingly pale, and Uther could not ignore the rolling in his stomach. Yet he had to hear it, had to know what had happened to his son.

"And?"

"They raped him in pairs until he passed out." Merlin delivered bluntly, but wasn't quick enough to stop the tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes. Now Uther was getting what he wanted. He had wanted to see what the boy's genuine reaction to his master's predicament was, wanted to know whether he could trust him to be discreet. No one could fake the agony in Merlin's expression as he was forced to tell what had happened.

"When he came to, he was locked in a tiny cell. He stayed there at all times unless they strung him up by his wrists in a larger, dark room. That's where the people came, that's where they beat him. For eight months they tortured him and I couldn't find him!" Merlin kicked out at the wall, only to suddenly freeze. It was as if he realised who he was in the presence of for the first time, and could no longer meet Uther's eyes. The King nodded softly. He could trust this boy not to spread rumours about Arthur's condition, but that still didn't mean he was happy with Arthur being so reliant upon the boy.

"As Arthur's servant, you know about the monthly nobles?" Merlin blinked in surprise at the change in conversation, but nodded. Uther signalled his approval. Every month, a few nobles would come to stay at the castle for a month themselves. It was supposed to show hospitality, keep them on his side. But it also meant that Uther could keep an eye on any that were potentially a threat.

"The changeover is scheduled for two weeks time," he continued, knowing that Merlin had no idea where he was going with this. "I'm appointing you to one of them to act as servant."

"What? No, I can't leave Arthur..." Uther watched as Merlin almost tried running for the door, as if he had to get back to his master right that second. He waited until the servant was level with him, and then grabbed his arm. Wrenching it up behind his back, he slammed Merlin against a wall, holding him there with ease.

"For once, you will do as I say." He snarled, not liking the way this servant seemed to know better about how Arthur was to be treated than the prince's own father did. Uther was in such turmoil, he just didn't know what to do around Arthur, so found himself reacting in the only way he knew how. He lashed out at those who did know how to treat the prince.

"Please, Sire..."

"You will not make me the bad man in this, servant. I'm not taking you away from Arthur yet. You have two weeks to stop him being so dependent on you. If you value his health as much as you appear to do, you will make sure he is ready to be on his own by then. You are going, whether you like it or not. Make a smart decision and make sure he can cope with that before you go."

With that, he let go of Merlin's arm, unlocked the door and strode from it, leaving the shaking boy massaging his wrist and staring out after him with tear filled eyes. He was not going to have Arthur afraid of his reaction, but nor was he going to let the prince remain scared. The others all cared too much, they would pander to his every whim until he came reliant on it and didn't want to recover. With any luck, having a time frame would mean that Merlin would push Arthur to become independent again. But two weeks was a long time, Arthur would be able to do it. It would push his recovery without forcing him too hard.

This time, Uther didn't head back towards Arthur's chambers. He was clear in his mind now what needed to be done, and just hoped that Arthur could see it was for his benefit. By giving Merlin two weeks, Uther knew that when those two weeks were up, he would address his son as if nothing happened, making sure Arthur was ready to become the heir once again. But for those two weeks, Arthur would simply be his son, nothing more and nothing less. Uther would do whatever it took to make the prince well again. And if that meant threatening his servant and – much as it pained him to admit it – friend, then that was what Uther would do.

**Just because I'm not sure if it came across or not - he doesn't know how to react, which is why he goes from one extreme to the other!**


	20. Chapter 20

The two weeks went far too quickly for Merlin to be happy with. After he had yelled at Gwaine for fetching him a third night running when Arthur was suffering a nightmare, he had eventually plucked up the courage to tell the Knights about Uther's threats. Gwaine had ranted, Lancelot had looked disappointed and Leon had stayed quiet, too much of a Knight to react against the royal family. He had, however, cast a sleeping Arthur a long, sad look.

But telling them was the best thing he could have done. When Arthur awoke screaming the next night, they refused to fetch his servant. When Merlin did turn up in the morning, it was to find the room in complete chaos and the Knights all looking completely exhausted. They had spent half the night battling to keep Arthur in his room, the prince wanting the escape. The men simply didn't have the same knack Merlin did for calming him down. But it was then, however, they knew that they were going to really have to work at this.

Leon upped Arthur's training, leaving the prince so exhausted at the end of the day that he fell into dreamless sleeps, and that in turn helped bring back some more of his strength. Gaius had admitted that he thought Arthur would get worse once they had returned to Camelot because he would be worried about people's reactions, and it killed Merlin that he was right. A week in, however, and there were slight changes in Arthur's behaviour. He seemed more confident and his appetite had returned properly – another added bonus of the increased training. More colour was back in his cheeks and it had been a good day indeed when he had laughed at something Merlin had said, even if he did cover it up by then cuffing his servant over the head.

The progress continued well into the second week, and yet Merlin had not told Arthur why they were all suddenly so determined to get him well again. He couldn't face the look on his prince's face when he told him that he had to break his promise and leave him. Arthur's temper was too explosive, and although Merlin knew waiting was just going to make it harder, he couldn't bring himself to do it.

Even by the morning of the day he was to be assigned elsewhere, Merlin had not told his rightful master that he wouldn't be serving him for the next few weeks at least. Standing outside Arthur's door, Merlin didn't think he had ever felt so nervous. It was true that Arthur was coping better without him now, and it wasn't Merlin he automatically turned too when he wasn't feeling his best or had just experienced an unpleasant memory. But there was still the odd look from across the room, Arthur's piercing gaze seeking out Merlin's, and the servant's small smile of reassurance being the only thing that could make him relax. Merlin didn't want to lose that, but knew that he had no choice.

Pushing open the door, he took one step inside of Arthur's room, and froze. There were belongings strewn everywhere, and Arthur was sitting in the middle of it, clearly packing.

"What are you doing?" Merlin blurted out, subtle as always. Nothing had been said to him about Arthur going anywhere, and the servant couldn't help but experience a rush of sheer panic.

"This, Merlin, is called packing." Arthur's dry tone had Merlin smile despite himself, glad that Arthur was more back to his old self than he had been for a long time.

"I can see that, Sire. May I ask why?"

"Hunting." Merlin felt the roof of his mouth go dry. Why on earth did Arthur chose now for his venture outside of the castle since returning? Merlin knew he couldn't accompany him, Uther would notice immediately if the servant wasn't there for him to give away to some visiting noble. But how could he let Arthur go out there without him?

"And no, you are not coming." Arthur's blunt tone jerks Merlin out his panic with an unpleasant bump.

"What?"

"You hate hunting."

"Since when has that ever stopped you dragging me along just for the fun of it?" There would have been a time when Merlin would have made some comment about Arthur just wanting to torment him. But the time for careless words had gone. Despite Arthur being so much better, all it took was one word and he could be thrown back into the depths of his mind.

"True. Okay, it's Leon's idea. He wants to get away from the castle, wants me away from the castle. So he's planned a knightly hunt."

"So you'll need a servant..." Merlin couldn't help but sound hopeful. Uther had never specifically ordered him not to leave, only mentioned that he would be given to one of the nobles. So if Arthur was to order him to go with them, who was a mere servant to disobey his master?

"No."

"No?" Merlin's hopes fell again.

"Look, I know why you want to come, and we'll – I'll – be fine, I swear. You hate hunting, and you look like crap, Merlin. Stay and get some rest."

"But Arthur, I..."

"Merlin!" That was a tone Merlin was more used to, the sound of Arthur reaching the end of his patience with his servant. A sign that things had returned to normal, but right now, Merlin wished Arthur still listened to him. When the prince continued, however, his voice was quiet and soft, almost uncertain.

"I have to know I can do this. I'll be safe, nothing can get through the men. I've been relying on you too much, Merlin. I have to know that I can do this without you. You understand that, don't you?"

Merlin mutely nodded, dropping to his knees beside his prince, his _king_, and began helping Arthur pack the right equipment and clothing rather than the chaos the royal had been throwing in the bag. What could he say? He could hardly protest that Arthur was willing to do something he was unsure about to make sure that he had the courage to be able to lead his people again. Merlin couldn't help but be proud.

"How long are you going for?"

"Possibly up to a week, we'll see." Merlin knew what wasn't being said there. This time, it would be nothing to do with how easy prey was that determined when the party returned, but how Arthur was handling it.

"Does your father know?"

"Leon organised it, Merlin, what do you think?" Merlin snorted slightly in amusement, Arthur giving him a playful shove although he too had a small smile on his face. If anyone ever did anything by the book, it was Leon. No doubt Uther would have known about it long before Arthur did. Uther would have no doubt agreed – anyone who looked had been able to see how the king didn't know how to treat his son. Better to have Arthur away whilst the nobles arrived rather than explaining why Arthur had barricaded himself away.

Merlin helped Arthur pack in silence, shouldering the prince's bag and letting Arthur lead the way down to the stables. The rest of the group was there, and even though Gwaine was chattering away like normal and Elyan had a slightly amused look on his face, there was a tension between them that had never been present before. Merlin fixed Arthur's horse, but turned to find Arthur with a strange look on his face.

"I'll be back in a minute, prepare to leave." Merlin opened his mouth to protest, but Leon cut him off as Arthur backed out of the stables.

"Let him go, he needs a minute. Merlin, the king is coming out onto the steps, the nobles are arriving. Shouldn't you be over there? I'll tell him Gaius needed you."

Merlin shut his eyes with a groan for a moment, wishing that he could split himself in two. He desperately wanted to be riding out with Arthur, seeing for himself the progress that the prince was making, but knew that would undermine the whole reason of why they were going. He had also felt Uther's eyes on him the night before, and knew a warning was being given. He had to be there.

"Look after him." His voice came out as pleading, his sentence making him sound like he was begging more than anything. They had been through so much to get Arthur to this point, he didn't want to lose him now and not be there to help. Lancelot slipped from his horse and clapped his friend on the shoulder gently.

"You know we will. He's safe with us." He promised softly, before a noise in the courtyard made him turn his head. "You better be going."

Merlin too could hear what had distracted Lancelot and knew the first of the nobles were arriving. His time was up, he had to be out on the steps with Uther. Fighting back tears slightly; he nodded and ran swiftly from the stables, not seeing Arthur returning. The prince saw him run, and with a frown on his face, entered the stables. There was certainly something there that he wasn't being told about, but he knew Merlin. Knew the boy could take care of himself more than anyone.

Despite Arthur's faith in him, Merlin only just reached the steps in time. Greetings had been exchanged and judging by the glare Uther shot him, his lateness had been noted. Merlin lowered his eyes to the floor, anger burning brightly in him as he caught sight of the knights leaving out of the corner of his eye. He was trying _not_ to watch them as two nobles stepped forward, bowing before Uther. One had a friendly face, prominent features, but eyes that looked like they were full of mirth. The other was just as defined, but had a permanent scowl lingering and a dark expression.

"I'll have this one if I may, my Liege?" Merlin's head shot upwards at hearing the dark man talk, his tone dripping venom. It was only then that he realised that he was being the one discussed, and as he caught the noble's eye, the man sneered, his eyes running hungrily over Merlin.

"Be my guest, my dear friend." Uther replied warmly, shooting Merlin a look that clearly told him to behave. Merlin swallowed hard, and spared the leaving knights one last glance.

He wasn't expecting Arthur to be staring back at them, his face pale and shocked. Merlin frowned, taking a step forward. Something was wrong... But before he could do so, a hand tightened around his upper arm painfully and he was jerked back.

"You belong to me now, boy." A hot breath tickled his ear and Merlin tried not to wince as he watched Leon carefully take Arthur's reigns and force the prince into moving. Arthur did so reluctantly, but still looked back more than once, clearly distressed.

Before Merlin could do anything about it, he found that the noble was walking off, dragging Merlin with him. The warlock stumbled over his own feet a couple of times and was forced to half jog to keep up with the man before they reached the guest quarters and he was thrown violently into the room. The man entered behind him, shutting and – to Merlin's discomfort – locking the door behind him.

"You need not know my name, boy, but simply address me as Sire or Master. Hard to make accusations when you have no name." Merlin felt his heart flop through his stomach, his mouth going dry as his eyes involuntarily flickered towards the door. Make accusations? Why would he want to make accusations? He could feel his magic humming under his skin, clearly ready to react to whatever could be a potential threat. With a great deal of effort, he forced it back, knowing that he couldn't get himself executed whilst Arthur wasn't here.

"Stand up straight." The man barked, and for the first time in his life, Merlin held his tongue. His mind was buzzing with comebacks, but was also thinking frantically about the look on Arthur's face. Was it this noble he had reacted too; did he know something that Merlin didn't?

No sooner had Merlin stood up, the man back handed him sharply across the face, making his head ring. Before he had recovered from the blow, a fist sunk into his stomach, causing him to double over, wheezing. As he tried to catch his breath, a heavy hand landed on his shoulder and before Merlin knew what was happening, he had been shoved down to his knees.

"Never look me in the eye, understood, whore?"

Merlin immediately looked up, anger spiralling brightly out of his eyes, causing them to turn ever so slightly gold as he struggled to keep the magic back.

"You can't call me that." He stated boldly, but the man crouched down in front of him, a mocking smile in place.

"I can call you whatever the hell I want, slut." His hand drifted down to Merlin's groin, and before the warlock could react, he grabbed hold, hard. Merlin immediately whimpered slightly, freezing to make sure he didn't move.

"You have no other master but me now, do you understand? I saw the way the prince looked back, maybe he is used to what services you have to offer. Oh he knows me of old, boy, and I'm going to take great pleasure in destroying him. But thanks to that look on his face, I might have just found a way to do so." He let go of Merlin, but fisted his hand in the boy's hair again. Dragging Merlin upright, the noble ignored the way Merlin was trying to prise his hands away and the gasps of pain he could hear coming from the boy as he dragged him over to the bed. Forced to his knees once more, Merlin didn't have time to react as he felt his hands tied behind the bed post, leaving him with no escape.

More than ever, he could feel his magic determined to come rushing to his defence. But it would be his word against a nobles, and he knew technically they did have the right to treat the servants however they wanted. This was not the first time this had happened to Merlin – being the Crown Prince's personal manservant seemed to make him something of a target – but last time Arthur had been around to show the man in question what he thought of that type of behaviour. This time, the prince was deep within the forest, determined that he could survive this without his servant.

Right now, however, Merlin wasn't so sure he could survive without Arthur. Another slap had his head ringing, and by the time he had opened his eyes again, the man had opened his breeches, his hard and rigid cock barely an inch from Merlin's face.

"Now how about we put that pretty mouth of yours to a better use, eh? Open up, boy. That's it, come on, service me like you do your prince..."

Merlin clenched his teeth together and glared in the opposite direction. He was not going to give the man the pleasure. He tugged at his bonds slightly, tears in his eyes. Maybe he would just have to use magic, he had to escape this. Letting the power build up, he heard the man growl above him before suddenly, his head was slammed back into the bed post. His hold on magic slipped, and try as he might, Merlin couldn't concentrate enough to bring it back. Panic began to overwhelm him as the man grabbed his chin, prising his jaw open. He knew he needed to calm down for the magic to work, but he was caught in a circle. Without the magic, he was defenceless, and that in turn was making him panic more and lose his grip on the magic further.

Something cold was suddenly placed against his throat, and through streaming eyes, Merlin managed to glance down to see the dagger against his neck.

"Open up." The man instructed, his tone low and dangerous. Merlin mutely shook his head, and the knife slipped, a small trickle of blood running down his neck. Merlin knew if he wanted to stay alive, he had no choice, and slowly let the tension out of his jaw slightly. The man noticed, grabbing his cock in one hand and forcing it between Merlin's lips as his other hand kept the knife in place.

As he choked and gagged, his mind fading out, Merlin had never wished for Arthur to be around more than he did right now. He may have been the one to save the prince from eight months of torture, but right now, he could really do with Arthur saving him from being a servant.

MMM

Little did Merlin know that deep within the forest, Arthur was restless. He knew that noble, he knew that it would mean his death. He couldn't get out of his mind's eye the two men standing there, one dark and menacing, the other fair and laughing. He knew in one glance which one was the threat, and Merlin had been standing helplessly between the two of them.

He had to get back to Camelot if he wanted this to ever be over.


	21. Chapter 21

Merlin kept his eyes on the floor as he went about his chores, trying not to swallow as it aggravated the burning sensation in his throat. Two days Arthur had been gone now, two days since Merlin had found himself under the law of the noble he still didn't know the name of. Two days for the man to violate his mouth a further three times.

It wasn't as if Merlin was a stranger to it, he was a young man living in Camelot, after all. And watching knights train day after day did have its advantages, not to mention how many of them he could get to swear their undying allegiance to Arthur whilst a quick tongue and clever hands took them apart. There had even been the odd noble that had gone too far as well. But somehow this was worse.

It was worse because he knew that he couldn't say anything. No matter what, Arthur could not find out. He had only just begun on his road to recovery; he was only just getting somewhere. To hear that Merlin was being hurt in a way that was vaguely similar to what he went through, Merlin knew that it would undo all of their hard work. He had to deal with this one on his own, and if it meant being shoved to his knees every morning before the man had even got out of bed properly, being forced to "service" him, then so be it. He could handle it. If he could deal with getting Arthur back after all of those months, he could deal with this.

Somehow, that still didn't stop his hands clenching when he heard footsteps heading towards the chambers again. It didn't stop his magic flaring to life with a mind of its own, only for Merlin to literally force it back. He knew that he couldn't lash out, that the consequences would be far worse than he could dream. Arthur had suffered more than anyone at the hands of magic, especially thanks to Dunran. If he came back from his trip to find his own manservant accused of the same thing, Merlin knew that would be the end of Arthur. The prince wouldn't trust anyone or anything ever again, not considering how fearful he still was of those around him. Not that he ever said anything, and the servant was sure that no one else even noticed, but he caught sight of the way Arthur's shoulders automatically tensed when he heard someone approaching and his fist tightened until the sounds had gone again. No, once again Merlin knew he had to just deal with it. Nothing could come in the way of Arthur being made the Once and Future King, not again.

"Boy!" The noble's yell echoed into the chamber just before the door burst open and Merlin spun around from where he was cleaning something. His eyes dropped to the floor, not out of any respect for the man, but because he knew it would be worse if he didn't. The man's first demand that Merlin never looked him in the eye was still ringing in his ears, and there was a bruise coming out across his face from where he had done just that the day before. This man had no tolerance for disobedience, and Merlin knew there was no way out of it with all the knights – his friends – on that damn hunting trip.

"I told you to be kneeling when I get back, whore." The man spat, driving his fist into Merlin's stomach and driving him to his knees. Merlin scowled at the floor, but let himself fall. He thought that Arthur would have no idea what he did to protect him due to his magic. He never realised what else he would be hiding and coping with to try and keep the prince safe. Only this time, it was keeping Arthur safe from his worst enemy at the moment – his own mind. Risking a glance upwards, Merlin felt his mouth go dry when he saw that the man was already beginning to unlace his breeches. Did he never have enough?

"No, please..." Merlin whispered, only to have a hand grab his chin, titling his head up towards the man. Just in time, Merlin remembered to keep his eyes down.

"What did you say to me?"

"Please, don't..." His voice was only just a little louder, hoarse from the misuse over the last couple of days, but even with his eyes down, he could see the man's smirk.

"That's right, beg me, boy. Do it! Beg!" Swallowing past a lump in his throat, Merlin slowly shook his head. He may be trying to stay alive and trying to protect Arthur, but that wasn't going to mean that he was going to completely submit. He wanted to maintain some shred of pride, something that he could hold on to in order to make him worthy of being by Arthur's side. He was not going to beg.

"I thought so," the noble continued, tilting Merlin's head up again and digging his fingers into his jaw to force Merlin to open his mouth. "You like it too much, admit it."

Merlin literally growled, but it was muffled somewhat as something was forced between his lips, and he found himself choking instead. The man didn't move this time though, despite the fact that he had Merlin pushing against him furiously, trying to get away. He was looking down through hooded eyes, watching the warlock struggle against the iron grip he had on the back of his head as he left his cock resting in the servant's mouth. Merlin was breathing heavily through his nose, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes once more, but suddenly, the man pulled away.

"Get up." Not hesitating, Merlin scrambled to his feet, wiping his mouth with his sleeve, face burning in shame and humiliation. He certainly wasn't going to stay on his knees any longer than he had to, not with the threatening position of the noble above him. Especially considering the man was still allowing himself to hang free. The noble grabbed his arm again, and Merlin winced.

"I've had enough of taking you that way." To say Merlin sagged in relief for a split second was an understatement, but the grip on his arm didn't lessen and the man shook him violently. "But that doesn't mean I've had enough."

Before Merlin could react, he was thrown across the room, landing at the edge of the bed. The man was on him in an instant, looming over Merlin as hands reached out to grab him. Merlin moved, leaping out of the way and rolling across the bed. He dropped to a crouch on the other side before springing to his feet and aiming to run for the door. A hand caught him around the arm, however, spinning him around, and this time, Merlin wasn't quick enough. He was forced onto the bed on his stomach, a hand holding the back of his neck and pressing his face into the pillows. Struggling for breath, Merlin let out a terrified cry as he felt the man's hand against his own breeches, forcing them down his legs.

Despite his many explorations being in Camelot, Merlin had never done _that. _For the first time since the man had proven his intentions were less than honourable, Merlin felt terrified. Kicking out, he twisted and bucked as much as he could, but with his legs trapped in the material of his breeches, there wasn't a lot he could do. Through sheer chance, he somehow got a lucky kick in, and no sooner had the man grunted in pain, Merlin was off the bed.

But the warlock was clumsy on the best of days, and with his breeches around his knees, he had barely gone a step before he tripped. Once again, the noble that he was trying to escape was on him, and Merlin yelled out as his hands were pulled behind him and tied with the man's belt, holding them in the small of his back.

"I wouldn't try that again if I were you, you slut." The man snarled, dragging Merlin to his feet by his collar and slamming the boy against a wall. Merlin fought furiously, but he knew this time, there would be no getting away. The man had a good grip on him, using his own body weight to pin Merlin in place, including his still flaying legs.

"No! Don't! Please, no, don't do this!" The screams fell from him as Merlin grasped blindly for his magic. But as with the first time they man approached him, his terror made it slip from his grasp quicker than sand. "Let me go, please, don't..."

"Shut up, boy." The man snarled, and Merlin did precisely the opposite as he felt something nudge against him. He screamed.

For the first time since finding Arthur, Merlin realised just how terrified the prince must have been. Alone and defenceless, not against just one man, but huge groups of them, all wanting to make him suffer. His realisation made Merlin cry out again, partly for his own predicament, partly for failing Arthur for so long.

"Please, no..." he was sobbing now, the pressure slowly beginning to increase. Everything seemed to be going hazy through his tears as he gasped and struggled for breath.

"Bromley!" A furious shout echoed through the room as the door burst open, slamming into the wall behind. For a wild moment, Merlin thought it was Arthur, the prince coming back to save him just as he knew Merlin hadn't stopped until he had saved the prince. But it was no Arthur standing in the doorway, but someone else. The other noble who had been standing with them when the man – Bromley – had staked his claim on Merlin. The pressure disappeared with a curse, and Merlin sank to the floor, shaking. He was barely aware of the fact that his trousers were still halfway down his legs and that his hands were tied, he was too busy gulping for air.

"Is this how you repay Uther's kindness, by abusing his staff? This boy is the prince's own personal manservant, what would Arthur say?" Merlin didn't hear the response through his whirling head, but he felt a gentle hand on his arm.

"No, please, don't...just let me go..." he flinched back, shrinking into the wall even as the hand reached behind him, pulling away the belt.

"It's okay, boy. He won't hurt you anymore..." Gulping air frantically, Merlin slowly blinked, the man's face coming into focus. He was staring down at Merlin in concern, but making sure he kept his distance.

"Didn't want it..." Merlin mumbled, not really being sure what he was saying, but feeling like he should be explaining.

"Shh, don't worry. It's over..." Gently reaching down, the man took hold of Merlin's arm lightly and drew the shaking man to his feet. As he glanced down, Merlin reacted, suddenly realising that he was still exposed like this and yanked his trousers up, almost ripping the laces as he tried to secure them with shaking hands. He then backed against the wall again, trying to protect himself from harm.

"He's coming with me, Bromley. You are to stay away from him, and if I hear otherwise, the prince will find out. From what I've heard about Arthur lately, he will not take it well and you will be hauled in front of Uther before you can blink. Now, boy, do you have a name?"

"Merlin." Said warlock mumbled, something sinking through his hazy mind. What _had_the man heard about Arthur lately, he was sure Uther had made sure it stayed quiet what had befallen the prince.

"Come, Merlin, I have food and warmth in my chambers, you'll be safe." The man reached out his hand again in a gesture, but Merlin was glad when he didn't try to touch him. Nodding slightly, he stumbled forward, even more grateful for the noble as he made sure he put himself between the servant and Bromley. It wasn't that he trusted the man, but knew it was either that or stay in Bromley's chambers, he couldn't face making it to Gaius like this. And the man had saved him...

Just letting his feet walk and his mind try and zone out from what had just happened, Merlin wasn't really paying much attention to his surroundings. It was only when the man called to him softly to stop did he realise he was in front of another door. It was pushed opened, and Merlin gestured to go in. Mutely, he did so, realising that he couldn't feel anything other than numbness.

"Here, Merlin, take a seat." The warlock let himself be pushed into a soft chair by the fire, the extra warmth only then making him realise that he had been shivering. The man crouched in front of him, fingers outstretched and hovering over the bruise on Merlin's face, but once again not touching.

"Who 're you?" Merlin slurred slightly, wrapping his arms around himself to try and both warm up and protect himself.

"Someone who will not stand for the likes of Bromley. Now, can I get you something to eat? Drink perhaps?" Merlin could only blink at the man. He was the servant, he should be the one trying to get the food for the noble, not sitting here in what was obviously the man's personal seat. Panicking, he tried to get up, but a soft hand on his shoulder kept him down.

"It's quite alright, my boy. You've been through quite an ordeal, you just rest for a moment. I'll have you transferred to be my servant in the morning, but right now, you just sit there and regain your strength, it's going to be okay."

The hand disappeared and Merlin sagged, curling up. He felt exhausted all of a sudden now that the panic was wearing off slightly, and couldn't help but sniff, wiping his hand across his eyes to try and get rid of the tears. To his shame, they just fell thicker and faster instead. Merlin was just glad that the noble had moved behind him and couldn't see the tears literally pouring down his cheeks as he stared into the flames. Now more than ever, he wanted Arthur back in the castle. Why had Leon thought that it would be a good idea to take Arthur away without Merlin? And why now? Deep down, Merlin knew it was not the Knight's fault, Arthur wouldn't have reacted well with being so close to Merlin, yet having his servant assigned to other people. But the prince always offered Merlin a sense of security, even now when he could only just hold his sword again.

"Here," the hand was back, a goblet clutched in it. Jumping, Merlin hastily tried to wipe his eyes again, any attempt to make it look as if he wasn't as weak and vulnerable as he was feeling right now. He had been through hell and back trying to get Arthur safe, and now it was being in the castle again that was causing him to shatter.

"Take it, Merlin, you'll need it." Hand trembling violently, Merlin managed to take the cup, although it still took both hands for him to hold it vaguely steady.

"You should drink it before it goes cold, it will settle your nerves. Then you should try and get some sleep, let your mind heal from what just happened." The man's voice was strangely soothing, and Merlin found himself nodding in agreement, taking a sip. He almost sighed in satisfaction as the warming taste of mulled wine hit his previously burning throat. It both soothed his throat and his nerves, and after a few more sips, Merlin found that his hand had stopped shaking as badly.

He could see the noble out of the corner of his eye, sitting on the bed to give Merlin some distance, but watching him closely.

"Thank you." He croaked, wiping away the tears once again and trying to smile at the man before taking another sip of the drink.

"Oh don't thank me." The man muttered, "it's the least I can do. You just drink that, you'll feel better."

Merlin's smile was slightly more genuine this time as he took another sip. It was nice to know that all nobles were arrogant bullies. It was as he was coming to the end of the drink that Merlin realised something felt weird. He thought the shaking had settled, but as he glanced at his hand, it let out a tremble so badly the goblet went clattering out of his hand and down onto the floor.

"Sorry," Merlin muttered, making to go after it. But as he got to his feet, the room lurched alarmingly and he was forced to cling onto the chair to stop himself from falling over. Determined not to seem weak yet again in front of this man, Merlin forced himself upright and moved after the goblet.

He didn't even make it a step before his eyes rolled back in his head and he hit the floor.

"Now that was interesting." Acrotus got slowly to his feet, staring at the unconscious servant in amazement. "Very interesting indeed."

Glancing at the door, he quickly strode across the room and shut it before hoisting Merlin up onto the bed. No need for the boy to get suspicious. That done, he quickly disposed of the rest of the wine, albeit feeling smug at the results. It certainly explained a lot.

If he was honest, Acrotus hadn't expected the potion to do anything. It was a way of detecting magic, even the most powerful of sorcerers simply felt sick. The boy, however, had completely passed out. On one hand, there was no faking the ordeal he had just been through, maybe Bromley's attack had affected the results? On the other hand, however, someone had got the prince out of that place, going against numerous sorcerers in the process.

Very interesting indeed.


	22. Chapter 22

"Merlin? Merlin, look at me?"

Merlin just about registered the voice with a groan, blearily forcing his eyes open. For a moment, he could only blink in disorientation at the face swimming in his vision. Another blink however brought the face into focus and Merlin tried to sit up sharply.

"Easy now, boy." There was a firm hand on his shoulder stopped him from sitting up properly, and with his vision clouded, Merlin fought against the hand for a moment. All he could feel was the pain from Bromley's attack and the man's hands all over him again. He tried to suck in a sharp breath, but it was as if there wasn't enough oxygen in the room to get through to his protesting lungs. He couldn't be here, lying in some noble's bed whilst his senses danced teasingly out of his reach.

"Can't...go...have to..."

"Merlin, calm down before I have to get the physician."

Physician. Gaius. No! Gaius couldn't see him like this, couldn't know what his ward had almost gone through. Merlin knew in the back of his mind that he had put his mentor through enough over the last year or so, his desperation at trying to find Arthur stretching their relationship to almost breaking point as he had refused to listen to sense. Arthur's rescue had bridged the gap that had sprung up between them, and Merlin was so grateful for all that Gaius had done the last thing he wanted was for there to be another gap between them. Not now, not after everything...

Knowing only he had the power to stop Acrotus from going to Gaius, Merlin sucked in a sharp breath.

"That's it, boy, and another nice deep one." Feeling Acrotus' guidance, Merlin finally managed to calm himself down, sitting up and shakily leaning back on the pillows.

"I should go..." He muttered, making to swing his legs off the bed. Even though Acrotus seemed to be helping him, Merlin couldn't help but wonder how long he too decided that he desired the servant to pleasure him in the way Bromley had. It was one of the reasons why all the servants loathed the nobles changing over each month. Just as they got used to who to avoid, everything changed again.

"Merlin. No harm can come to you here. Take your time. You were raped. You are beyond your master's protection and Bromley exploited that. No one expects you to just be fine with it. Rest for a moment."

For a humiliating moment, Merlin felt his eyes fill with tears at Acrotus' kindness. Scrubbing the back of his hand across his eyes, the warlock sniffed, finally relaxing back properly and letting the pillows take his full weight for the first time since waking up. Blinking, Merlin suddenly realised he had no idea how he had ended up on the bed in the first place.

"What-?" He didn't even need to finish his sentence before Acrotus smiled sympathetically. He was sitting on a chair by the side of the bed, watching Merlin closely. For a moment, he didn't speak. Instead, he leant over and poured out a goblet of water from a jug near the bed, handing it to Merlin. He still didn't say anything as Merlin gratefully sipped at the cool liquid, his hand giving the odd tremor. The noble didn't mention it though, and Merlin gritted his teeth as his body betrayed what it had gone through. Arthur had gone through worse, and didn't sit there and shake like a leaf.

"You fainted, Merlin." Acrotus said gently, taking the cup back from Merlin. It was unnerving how he could look the boy straight in the eye as he lied. "We were talking about what had happened, and it all got a bit much for you. One moment you were talking back, the next you were flat out on the floor."

"Sorry..." Merlin muttered, feeling the tips of his ears going red. Now he was glad Arthur was not around. What would the prince say to him fainting like a girl? Feeling slightly more steady now he had drunk, Merlin once again swung his legs over the side of the bed. This time, Acrotus let him, pushing his chair back to make room for the warlock.

"What do you want to do now?" He said gently, watching the boy's every move. He had never seen anyone pass out from that drug before, he had no idea what Merlin was going to do next. If his magic was that powerful to react in such an extreme manner, would it be able to sense what had happened? Luck was on his side as Bromley's attack meant Merlin was so shaken up, he wasn't listening to the warnings his magic was trying to give him. He just put it down to what had happened rather than what was still happening.

"I don't know," Merlin muttered, moving across the room and leaning against the wall near the fireplace, staring into the depths of it with unseeing eyes. "The King gave me to Bromley, but I can't go back there, not now. I can't go after Arthur, much as I might want too. I guess that I'll just have to go back to Gaius and hope Uther doesn't find out."

He didn't want to consider what the King might do to him if he found out he had been taken from Bromley's service within only a few days. He had made it quite apparent that Merlin was to do as he was told for once and just act as a normal servant, no matter what the consequences.

"There is another option." Acrotus said quietly, his ever-active mind whirring overtime as he realised how he could use this to his potential. He would have thought getting close to Arthur again was going to be awkward considering how much the protection of the prince had increased, especially with the royal not even in the city. But Acrotus had been invited for a whole month, and no hunting trip could last that long, no matter the reasons behind it. In fact, the longer Arthur was away for, the better. By the time he returned, Acrotus would have the servant well under his control.

"What?" There was hope and a sense of innocence in both Merlin's voice and eyes as he glanced towards the noble. Acrotus found that he was forced to remind himself that this _boy_ was the reason why his plan had gone wrong, he was the one who had attacked the building and freed the prince just as Acrotus was getting the results he wanted. It was true that Dunran hadn't helped, claiming that he could get Arthur back and then proceeding to try and pleasure himself rather than just delivering the goods as promised. But it was still Merlin's fault they had lost Arthur to begin with. Acrotus was going to make him pay – by making sure the warlock was fundamental in his plan of getting Arthur back in his grasp.

"You could stay with me." He said almost hesitantly, knowing that he had to win Merlin's trust in order for this to work. It was obvious the servant was more than protective over his true master, Acrotus had seen their interaction when he had sent his bandits after them. There was a friendship there – something that was going to make this harder, and yet all the more pleasurable when his plan worked.

"You mean..?"

"Work for me, Merlin. Uther doesn't have to know the reason behind your master being changed, it's not that uncommon in the first few days of nobles arriving, you must have noticed that. We stake claims, and then find the one we picked was not suitable. Surely as long as the King sees that you are still serving, he would not concern himself with a matter so trival?"

Merlin flinched slightly at the truth behind Acrotus' words. Uther wouldn't care that Acrotus had saved Merlin from being abused by Bromley, he would just care that his nobles are being kept happy.

"But don't you have a servant?" The last thing he wanted was to turn someone else out of their job.

"I never got around to picking one. What do you say, boy? Will you allow me to be your temporary master until the prince returns?"

Acrotus could see Merlin biting his lip, clearly thinking it over. He was partly curious as to whether Merlin would reject it simply because of the way it had been worded. Would his fear of Uther and the threat of what could happen to him if he disobeyed another noble overcome his pride? Would it allow him to call Acrotus "master", even if it was a temporary thing. Or was his bond with Arthur too strong to allow even that? But even as the youth's eyes flickered towards the door and then back to Acrotus, the man knew that he had won. Merlin couldn't turn down that offer. It would be so easy for a noble to go with a complaint to Uther about the servant. It would be even easier for Acrotus to simply hand him back to Bromley, and he knew that Merlin knew it. He may have posed it as a question, but both the noble and the servant knew there was only one answer Merlin could give.

"Yes." Merlin whispered, turning back to face the wall as if he hated himself for admitting it. In a way, Merlin did. Bromley had been different, he had no choice in the matter after being picked in front of Uther. But by saying yes to Acrotus, he had deliberately made a choice that would have him serving another other than Arthur, even if it was just until the prince returned. No matter how he looked at it, Merlin couldn't help but feel that he had betrayed Arthur.

"Come, Merlin, I'm not a bad master," Acrotus said with a laugh, moving across the room and sitting down. "You don't have to look so terrified. Believe me, I will never do anything to you in the way Bromley did."

Merlin let out a shaky laugh, moving away from the wall and standing by the table. For someone who had never mastered the proper etiquette around Arthur, he seemed to know what he was doing around a noble he didn't know. To Merlin's mind, it was quite simple. He was never going to simply submit to Arthur, but knew that it was a sense of self-preservation that had him bowing his head slightly and studying the floor in front of Acrotus.

"How about you get us some breakfast?"

"Yes, Sire." There was a slight hesitance in Merlin's step as he headed towards the door, and Acrotus wondered for a moment whether he had pushed him too far by asking him to leave the safety of his chambers already. But then Merlin's hand closed on the handle, and he seemed to steel himself as he stepped outside.

Acrotus sagged in relief as Merlin stepped out into the corridor. He knew he had to play this carefully. He had to make the warlock trust him in order to be able to neutralise the threat of the boy's magic.

Whilst Merlin was fetching the food, Acrotus moved around his chambers. Some things were hidden under lose floorboards, things he didn't want the boy finding and becoming suspicious about. A few bottles were hidden on his person, the noble wanting to make sure that he always had something up his sleeve (literally) to be able to protect himself. Besides, one of the potions he was going to need almost immediately. The tricky part would be getting Merlin to look the other way whilst the man drugged his food. The wine was easy, the warlock was so shaken up he hadn't noticed anything. But Acrotus knew that he was going to have to be cautious. This was the warlock who had torn that building apart to get to Arthur.

By the time the food was on the table, Acrotus was sure everything was ready. Merlin was once again standing hesitantly by the side of the table, and the man kicked out a chair towards him.

"Why don't you join me? I can't imagine Bromley made sure you had enough to eat, and you have been with him a few days. Please, take a seat."

Merlin smiled tightly and dropped uncertainly into the chair, the nerves written on his face. Acrotus couldn't blame him. After his treatment at Bromley's hands, the boy wasn't going to simply trust him. It was ironic that he had every reason not too.

"Oh, wait, I'm sorry...the water jug is still by the bed, do you mind..?"

Merlin grinned, seeming to relax a little more as he stood back up. As soon as his back was turned to the table, Acrotus' hand shot out. The bottle slid from his sleeve into his hand and he effortlessly opened it, spilling the contents over the plate of food Merlin had cautiously picked out. It was odourless, colourless and tasteless. This amount would barely have any effect on the warlock whatsoever, but Acrotus knew that he needed to take it slow in order to stop Merlin from becoming suspicious.

Even so, he was hard pushed not to smirk as Merlin put the water on the table and turned back to his food. It was obvious the boy was hungry, and it didn't take long at all until he had eaten everything on his plate, including the drug.

A few more doses of that, and Merlin's magic would be long gone.

For the first time since the warlock had turned up, Acrotus felt as if things were beginning to go his way again. He would get to finish what he had started with Arthur, of that he was now certain. But when the prince was dead, he would have a warlock helplessly in his grasp. Once the drug wore off, Merlin's magic would be back, and it would be angry. But Acrotus had no intention of letting the drug wear off until he was far away from Camelot with his prize.

With knowing that he had failed Arthur, Merlin would be unstoppable. But he would have nowhere to run, no one to lash out at. He would be the perfect tool. All Acrotus would have to do would be to break the boy's will – something that wouldn't be too hard when he had just watched his best friend be murdered – and then unleash him back on Camelot.

They wouldn't know what had hit them, and Acrotus' revenge would finally be complete. They would all pay.

But for now, he simply handed Merlin a list of chores that he wanted done and strode from the room, saying something about wanting to make sure his horse was settled. If there was one thing Acrotus was good at, it was waiting. He would wait for weeks if he had to, slowly drugging the warlock into submission whilst Arthur gallivanted around the countryside. Move too quickly, and Merlin would immediately be back on his guard. Acrotus noticed the way his eyes darted around, and knew that he couldn't make the boy suspicious. He had to play this carefully.

But this was a game he was going to win, he was sure of it.


	23. Chapter 23

It took Arthur two days before he could pluck up the courage to leave the Knights. The rest of them couldn't return as well, it would draw too much attention if they all came thundering back in like the devil was on their heels. But Arthur couldn't throw of the feeling that something was very wrong. He had only got a glimpse of the nobles that had been standing either side of his servant as he had left, but it was enough to send shivers down his spine. One, he knew would not bode well for Merlin, he knew what Bromley was like. The other, however, was the problem. Arthur had only caught a sideways glance of his face, and by the time he had blinked the shock out of his vision, the man had moved out of his eye line. Still, Arthur was sure he wasn't going to forget the face of the man who had poisoned him. Was Acrotus really here in Camelot, or was Arthur just being paranoid?

Despite knowing it would drive them mad with worry, he left the Knights in the middle of the night, using the cover of darkness. He left Leon a note, knowing their minds would go into overdrive about what could have happened to him otherwise, but had slipped onto his horse alone. As Arthur cantered away from the camp and back towards Camelot, his mind a mixture of fear and concern, a thought lodged itself in his mind. This was the first time he had been on his own since they had found him. He wasn't sure whether again, it was him imagining things, but the burn had been affecting him more on the camping trip. Part of Arthur knew it went back longer than that, it had been affecting him ever since Merlin had begun to distance himself slightly. What was it about his servant that stopped the burn paining him as much?

His mind plagued and distracted, Arthur gave the horse her head, knowing that she knew the way home and urged her into speeds he knew was potentially risky considering he wasn't up to his full strength. He wouldn't be able to hold on the way he used to be able too, and if she took anything at a leap, he knew he would be off. But there was something driving him, a feeling deep within that he couldn't shake off. He knew something was wrong. What was annoying him was that he didn't know what that something was.

By riding hard through the night, Arthur made Camelot by the morning. He was breathless and flushed, sweating as he almost dropped from his horse and more than exhausted, limbs trembling with the effort of standing up. But he was back.

Handing the reigns to the stable boy, Arthur forced his weary legs into jogging up the steps. Once he reached the top, he had no choice but to pause, bending over as he tried to ease the cramp that had taken up residence in his left leg. He wasn't up to this yet, but knew that he had to keep going. Hearing someone coming, Arthur straightened up, lifted his head high and set off slowly, nodding to the guards as they shot him looks of confusion. It had been made known that Arthur was to spend a few days away hunting, but there was no way they were about to question what he was doing back in the castle. They were better trained than that.

Even so, Arthur kept his footsteps light and stayed close to the wall as he made his swift way through the castle, knowing precisely where he was going. He still wasn't completely happy with dealing with strangers on his own, and didn't want anything to distract him from reaching his destination. Eventually, though, the door he had been making a beeline towards came into view. Arthur raised his hand to knock, shrugged with a slight smirk and backed up a pace. How much of his strength he had regained? Arthur lifted a foot and slammed it into the door.

Even he couldn't hide his grin as it went crashing open. It seemed Leon's strict training regime had been paying off after all. The occupant of the room jumped up in surprise, but before he could say anything, Arthur had entered. Grabbing the man by the collar, he slammed him back into the wall.

"Where is he?"

"Arthur? What the hell are you doing?"

"Give it up, Bromley! I saw you eye up Merlin, what have you done to him?" Realising that the man was struggling to breathe, Arthur loosened his grip slightly with satisfaction, but didn't let go. It was nice to know that despite everything that had happened, he could still make a man tremble.

"Nothing." Arthur raised an eyebrow in disbelief, his hand automatically going to his belt. He still wasn't carrying a sword yet, the metal rubbing against a slow healing wound on his leg. But he did still have his dagger, and was preparing to put it to good use. Bromley saw the movement and knew what it meant. "Okay, okay, so I tried. I might have attempted to force him when he resisted, but I never did it, I swear. Someone threw me off and I haven't see the boy since. I swear, Sire, I swear!"

Arthur's grip had been slowly tightening as he registered what Bromley had been saying, but at the same time, he could see the truth in the man's eyes. Merlin wasn't here. Letting go, he backed up until the bed hit the back of his knees and he sat down heavily. He was exhausted.

"Are you alright, Sire?" Bromley moved forward, watching Arthur in genuine concern. The prince offered him a weak smile.

"Since when have you called me that?"

"Since you were about to pull a knife on me." The noble said with a shrug, pouring out a goblet of water and handing it to Arthur. "Sorry, but you look like crap." Arthur huffed slightly, but took the water with a genuine smile of gratitude.

"You have to learn Camelot isn't you estate, Bromley. We don't just bed whoever we want here." The man bristled slightly in anger.

"That wasn't the prince I used to know. What happened to the Arthur I used to meet behind the stables?"

"He grew up." Arthur said slowly, rubbing a hand over his eyes. Those days had seemed like a lifetime ago now. He had been young and desperate to prove himself, and Bromley had been more than happy to play along with it. Now, however, Arthur was even more aware of how headstrong and arrogant he had been then. If there was one thing his tormentors had managed to strip from him, it had been his arrogance. He couldn't be that person now, not any more.

"What happened?" Bromley's voice was softer this time as he pulled around his chair so that he could sit in front of Arthur. He wouldn't act like this in front of anyone else, but he could see the genuine pain in Arthur's eyes. Something had happened to the confident young man, and as bad as he looked now, Bromley could tell this was him recovering. He knew that he was being too familiar with the future King of Camelot, but he had been Arthur's first. There was something about that which seemed to break down the normal boundaries.

"You don't want to know." Arthur muttered dismissively, meeting the man's eyes for a moment before glancing away. He didn't want to be brushing off someone who had been a friend to him, but neither did he want to go into it. "What did you do, Bromley? Merlin's my servant, you should have known you wouldn't have been able to get away with it."

"There's more to it than that, isn't there?" Arthur rolled his eyes slightly, not surprised the man had seen straight through him. Considering how Bromley used to see him, completely open and practically begging, his act was fooling no one.

"He's my friend. He saved my life. More than saved my life. He stopped me from being destroyed, Bromley. And you tried to do the same to him." This time, the noble had nothing to say and Arthur handed him back the goblet and slowly got to his feet. It seemed Merlin truly wasn't here. But why hadn't the feeling something was wrong not go away in the slightest? Something was very wrong, Arthur could just feel it.

"Who took him?"

"Some swarmy git."

"Bromley. Who took him?" Bromley sighed, also climbing to his feet. He had never seen Arthur act like this before, and knew that he had possibly tried to mess with a bond that he had no understanding off. He wasn't sure if he had ever heard Arthur admit to having a friend before, but there was something in his eyes that warned the noble not to say anything against this servant again. It was clear that Arthur wasn't going to stand for it, not as the boy's master, but as his friend.

"Ac...Art...Acr..."

"Acrotus?" Arthur's whisper was barely even heard, and Bromley was forced to push Arthur back down on the bed for fear that the young man was going to pass out. All the colour had drained from his face, and as the noble watched, his hands were screwed up, his knuckles turning white with the effort.

"That might be it. Arthur, what is it?"

"Nothing." Arthur took a deep breath, willing himself to calm down. He couldn't let the sheer terror he could feel rising up grip him, knowing that he would be no good to Merlin if his own fright got the better of him. "I'm fine." Standing up once more, Arthur paused.

"One more thing."

"What?"

There was no verbal answer to Bromley's question, just Arthur's swinging fist. The man was knocked back by the force behind the punch, toppling onto the bed and nursing his jaw.

"That's for hurting Merlin." Without another word, Arthur strode from the room. Where should he go now? Straight to his father, warn him that one of the people behind Arthur's abduction and subsequent torture was here in the very castle? The prince took one step towards the throne room and changed his mind. If Acrotus had Merlin, that could potentially just put the servant into more danger, for Arthur knew his father wouldn't care if the boy got hurt in the process. Arthur couldn't do that to him, not after everything Merlin had gone through for the prince. No, this was something that Arthur was just going to have to deal with by himself. But where to look?

He had only known where to find Bromley because the man had been such a frequent visitor to Camelot, they kept him his own rooms now to make it easier for everyone. But where would have Acrotus be housed? Arthur hated the fact Leon had taken him from Camelot as the changeover was happening. It meant Arthur had no idea whatsoever as to where he should start looking.

As it happened, he hadn't needed to look very far. Arthur had just started walking the corridors, hoping that fate would somehow reveal which chambers Acrotus was staying in when he caught sight of a familiar black head about to vanish through a door.

"Merlin!" His yell made the servant jump, and as Merlin turned to face him, Arthur closed the distance between them. There was a bruise around his servant's neck and his eyes looked slightly haunted, jumping about anxiously until his gaze settled on Arthur. And then a broad grin spread across his face.

"Arthur? What are you doing here, I thought..."

"I came back. Are you hurt? What's he done? Come away with me now, Merlin, it's okay, you won't have to be near him again..."

"I'm not." Merlin responded, looking confused as he stared at Arthur.

"What?"

"What are you talking about?"

"What are _you_ talking about?" Arthur shot back, also frowning. Why wasn't Merlin more relieved to see him, why wasn't he desperate to get away from Acrotus?

"Bromley. I thought...what you said, I thought you knew..."

"I do know." Arthur responded gently, making to put his hand on his friend's shoulder and then stopped himself at the last moment. He knew what he had been like with contact after Dunran, even if that had been multiple times over several months. He still knew what Merlin would be feeling. "But you aren't safe here..."

"It's okay, Arthur, he..." The prince, however, was barely listening to his servant. He was close on hyperventilation, knowing that Acrotus was just behind that door.

"Arthur? Arthur, what's wrong?" There was a sharpness to Merlin's voice that hadn't been present to Bromley's. He knew something was happening that was causing Arthur to panic, but for the life of him, he couldn't work out what. Part of him had known that the prince would be angry when he found out what Bromley had done, but this? This was not the reaction Merlin had been expecting in the slightest, nor had he thought to see Arthur for a few more days at least. "Where are the others? What's happened, Arthur?"

"Nothing!" Arthur practically yelled, his eyes sliding past Merlin and onto the door behind him. "You have to come away, now. Come on, Merlin!" Reaching out, he grabbed Merlin's wrist in an almost vice like grip and began walking away. Even weakened, Arthur had recovered enough of his strength to take Merlin by surprise, successfully managing to drag his servant a few steps before Merlin managed to think straight again and fought against Arthur's grip.

"You're not making any sense! Arthur, stop it, you're hurting me. Just let go, talk to me. What's wrong?" Struggling against the hold on his wrist, Merlin's eyes were wide and slightly scared as he took in the expression on Arthur's face. The prince looked nothing short of terrified, and Merlin knew that made him dangerous.

"Merlin?" The door had opened, and Arthur immediately let go, almost springing away from Merlin as if burnt, eyes locked on the figure had who dragged him to the brink of death and back painfully numerous times. "Prince Arthur! What a surprise. You are looking well, my Lord. Was there something you needed my servant for?"

Fog was descending on Arthur's mind now, he couldn't think straight, didn't notice Merlin take a step closer in concern.

"Merlin, come away, he looks positively dangerous like that. I don't want you to get hurt." Arthur could hear the words, but it was if they were muted, muffled somehow. The voice was drowning out all senses. How could he just stand there, bold as brass, and even hint that he thought Arthur was looking well? Compared to the last time he had seen the prince, Arthur looked wonderful, but for him to even think of making any type of reference to Arthur's hell?

"Sire, look at me." Merlin had got closer again, ignoring Acrotus's words as he put his hand on Arthur's shoulder, letting his fingers rest against Arthur's neck in a comforting gesture. He couldn't help but frown at the erratic pulse he could feel. "Was it the nightmare again?"

Arthur shook his head, unable to talk, unable to say a word. He couldn't even look at Merlin, his eyes fixed on Acrotus. With the servant's back to him, Acrotus smirked in satisfaction, something for Arthur's eyes only. Arthur's hand reached blindly for Merlin, and he just held on to the first thing he came in contact with. Taking a step backwards, he pulled Merlin with him, not realising that he had his friend by the front of his shirt.

"Arthur, let go! Talk to me, just let go!" Trying to prise the grip away, Merlin felt a flash of fear. He didn't know how to deal with Arthur like this. With the knights around, it was fine. They tended to be able to hold him down whilst Merlin spoke soothingly to him, banishing the prince's demons, occasionally with the odd spell when Arthur was particularly bad. But despite not reacting, Arthur was almost on hyper-alert, there was no way Merlin could use magic. And Arthur simply didn't seem to be hearing a word he was saying.

"Guards!" Acrotus' call brought two men around the corner. They were not wearing Camelot's colours, but were Acrotus' own personal guards. "The prince is having a funny turn, escort him back to his chambers and fetch the physician." He ordered, pretend concern in his voice and eyes when Merlin glanced at him. Arthur shook his head, holding on tighter to Merlin, but the guards moved forward. Gently but firmly, they prised him away and Acrotus immediately took Merlin's arm – far more gently than Arthur had and pushed him towards the door.

"Go in there, Merlin, you'll be safe. I'll let you go to him when he has calmed down, but it isn't safe to be around him at the moment." Merlin took one glance at the look in Arthur's eye, and nodded. Much as it pained him to not be with Arthur right now, he knew that if the prince was to hurt him by accident, it would set them right back in Arthur's recovery. He had only just begun to trust himself again. Merlin couldn't let that happen, and with a sorrowful gaze, he ducked through the door. Acrotus closed it behind him.

"Get rid of him." His voice was cold and he simply watched as one of the guards sunk his fist into Arthur's stomach. Doubled over, winded, and terrified for his friend's safety, Arthur could offer very little fight as they dragged him through the corridors and dumped him unceremoniously in his room.

As the door snapped shut behind him, Arthur screamed in frustration. Acrotus would be keeping Merlin close now, and the prince had seen the look on the boy's face. Merlin had been almost scared of him.

How was he supposed to get him away from the sadistic noble now?


	24. Chapter 24

**What can I say? Real life? Writer's block? Crappy job? Huge decisions to be made? **

Arthur grabbed hold of his chair, almost throwing it across the room as he yelled out in frustration. It hadn't even yet been an hour since Acrotus' guards had dropped him back, yet the prince had managed to almost destroy his entire room. The curtains had a great big rip in them, the table was halfway across the room from where it had started and all of the chairs were tipped over. He knew that whoever was sent to tidy up the mess would just believe that he was having a tantrum, but Arthur knew he was entitled to one.

Mainly because at the back of his mind, he knew that whoever it was that had to tidy up after him, it wouldn't be Merlin. Merlin was with Acrotus, and somehow, Arthur just knew that the man was not going to be letting the servant out of his sight. With no idea that Acrotus wanted Merlin because of the secret that the warlock had been hiding, Arthur knew enough about the noble to know that he would keep the servant close because he had seen how Arthur had reacted. He had seen that the prince was terrified that something would happen to his friend, and it was possible he had even seen part of Arthur's escape, he might know how crucial Merlin was for Arthur to stay sane.

The prince let out a long groan as he surveyed the wreckage of his room, coming to a stop in front of his mirror as he did so. For a long moment, he could only stare at his reflection, wondering precisely who it was that he was seeing staring back at him. Even with how well his recovery was going and the fact that that he was beginning to put on weight and build up some muscle again, there could be no denying that he still looked awful. The nightmare had left deep, shadowed circles around his eyes and his face was pale, giving him an almost haunted look. The fact that his eyes seemed to dart around all over the place rather than staying in one place didn't help either. They had a depth to them that had never been present before he was captured. It was like there was a swirling mass of emotions running just under the surface, something you could only see out of the corner of your eye rather than if you looked directly. Looking directly at him, Arthur looked fine and recovering well. Glance from the side, and it revealed just how much of a mess he still was.

Hating the sight that he was looking at, Arthur didn't think about what he was doing. Letting out another yell of frustration, he forced his fist forward, crashing it into the glass. It immediately shattered, his knuckles bleeding freely, yet Arthur found that it was almost as if he was numb to the pain. It was in a slow-motion type manner that he plucked a shard from his bloodied hand, staring at the way the blood was flowing. His mind was so distressed that the pain was barely registering.

What he wasn't expecting, however, was for the burn to spring into life. He hadn't felt it for days, weeks even. Definitely not since he had been back in Camelot, and Arthur truly had thought that he had recovered from it, that it had somehow been nullified now that Dunran was dead. But what he had just done had given it incentive enough to flare back up again, and Arthur found that he was on his knees, his hand clutching at his shoulder even as the world seemed to spin sharply around him.

How long he knelt there for, Arthur had no idea. Time didn't seem to exist as he forced himself to breathe through the pain. But it wasn't just the physical burn that was causing tears to prick at the corners of his eyes. It was the fact that it was even happening. Arthur had truly thought that it had been over, that he had moved on from what had happened and that there would be no lasting reminder of his hell apart from what was going on in his own mind. Looking in the mirror had brought all that crashing down around him, and whilst he knew that he was looking better than before, he was still being plagued at almost every turn.

By the time he found that he could think straight again, Arthur realised that he was curled up on his side, once again trying to make himself as small as possible. But even as he noticed what he was doing, he made no attempt to alter his position. It wasn't like anyone was going to come in without knocking, Merlin was the only one that did that and he was caught, at Acrotus' mercy just like Arthur had been. The prince just had to hope that somewhere along the way of rescuing him, Merlin had heard Acrotus' name. It might have been months ago, but the servant had seen the terror in Arthur's eyes, the prince just had to hope it would be enough to trigger the memory (if there even was one!) and make Merlin aware that he had to get away, far away from the man.

Even thinking about Merlin, the one person that had pulled him from his hell when all else seemed lost, made Arthur suddenly grit his teeth in determination. His eyes sparked slightly as he slowly sat up, glaring at the door for all he was worth. Merlin had been the one to save him, to get him out and then stick by him through everything that Arthur had put him through. Wasn't it time to repay the favour? Wasn't it time that Arthur risked everything to get Merlin away from Acrotus? What kind of friend would he be if he allowed himself to be saved, and then just let Merlin suffer whilst he sat here and felt sorry for himself?

Nodding to himself, Arthur stood up. For a moment, the world seemed to spin alarmingly and the prince was glad that he was standing so close to his bed as everything seemed to lurch. He reached out a hand – luckily his good one – and supported himself as he waited for his vision to clear again. It seemed seeing Acrotus had affected him more deeply than he realised, but this was the man that had poisoned him, was the man that he had been sold to as if he was nothing more than a common slave rather than the Crown Prince and Heir to the throne of Camelot. What made it worse was at the time, it was the slave rather than the prince that Arthur had been feeling. Realising that he couldn't move anywhere like this, Arthur ripped off the corner of his shirt, binding it roughly around his knuckles in order to protect the now damaged hand. It took far longer than it should have and numerous attempts to try and tie the makeshift bandage off, but Arthur knew that he had to do something rather than just standing there and letting the dizziness consume him. He had to keep thinking straight if he was ever going to get anywhere.

Eventually though, he found that his legs had stopped shaking enough for him to be able to take a tentative step forward. Growing in confidence and still filled with the determination that he could do this, Arthur took another, then another. His legs suddenly began to support his weight properly and his head lifted in confidence as he strode over to his chambers door, pausing only long enough to grab his sword. He was not going to be a helpless prisoner this time, he was going to be a knight.

Unfortunately for Arthur, his new found confidence didn't last very long. He was still trying to get his sword into his belt as he opened the door, cursing the fact that his bleeding hand was making it rather difficult to do so. It meant that he didn't notice that there was someone standing directly outside, about to have knocked. Seeing a set of feet come into his vision, Arthur gasped as he looked up, realising that the man he had been about to seek was standing right in front of him. Clumsily, he tried to pull his sword free again, but Acrotus reacted first. The flat of his hand shot out, striking Arthur square in the throat.

Instantly, the prince dropped almost silently to the floor as he struggled to catch his breath, gasping in a desperate attempt to get air into his lungs. As he coughed harshly, Acrotus simply bent down and grabbed him by the arm, dragging him back into his chambers and all the way across to the bed. With his eyes streaming from the impact and his windpipe only just beginning to show signs of wanting to work again, Arthur only just managed to rise to his hands and knees before Acrotus slammed the door shut, turning the key as he did so. As Arthur slowly rose his head, a foot in the stomach caused him to flip over, landing on his back and once again finding that breathing was harder than it should be. Acrotus bent down beside him, leaning over him in an almost mocking manner.

"You're looking good, Arthur. All that time I spent trying to prepare you, and now look at you, fighting back once again." Arthur didn't even try and talk, knowing that it was going to come out as nothing more than a rasping noise considering the blow to his throat, but he did glare up at the man. Acrotus smirked in satisfaction at the look before backhanding him sharply.

"By now," he continued, grabbing Arthur's chin in order to roll his head back again so that he was facing his tormentor. "I should have you as the obedient slave, ready to serve my every need."

Arthur struggled as Acrotus suddenly straddled him, his knees pressing into the prince's side as his hands rested on either side of Arthur's neck, forcing his captive to look straight up at him. "According to Dunran, you are good at some needs."

Acrotus' voice was laced with venom and just a hint of lust, and the prince snarled in bucked upwards, trying to dislodge the man. Acrotus just laughed, however, rocking back slightly and letting go of Arthur's neck, climbing off the prince as he did so and glaring impassively down at him. He didn't seem to be too impressed with the fact that Arthur was struggling again.

"It seems that it is going to be a while before you are my slave then. Got a bit of the old fighting spirit back, have you?" Acrotus' voice was mocking and cruel, yet Arthur simply used that time to try and push himself upwards. Acrotus placed his foot in the royal's stomach, forcing him back down to the floor, yet Arthur simply glared. He was not going to lie here and take this, not again. Not after everything.

"Why are you doing this?" Arthur whispered. His thoughts about his voice were correct, it was harsh and rough sounding, but he couldn't just lie here in silence and listen to Acrotus talking about making him a slave. He could understand it when Arthur had been a defenceless prisoner, but there was no way that Acrotus would be able to get him out of Camelot now without the entire kingdom being made aware of the fact. Arthur couldn't even understand why the man was here.

"Because someone told me that you were destined for great things, Arthur Pendragon. And there is nothing that I find more rewarding than taking something that should be great and destroying it, especially when that involves twisting it to my own needs. The only thing that you are going to be destined for now, little prince, is pleasing me."

"You'll never get away with this."

"Oh, Arthur." Acrotus leant forward so that he could whisper in Arthur's ear. "I already have." And with that, he grabbed Arthur by the hair and pulled him into a sitting position. Both of Arthur's hands flew to his head as he tried to dislodge the grip, but Acrotus only shifted his hold until he had Arthur by the wrists instead. Despite his feet scrambling for grip on the smooth, wooden floor, Arthur couldn't stop Acrotus from dragging him backwards. His back hit the bedpost even as a hand fisted in his hair once more, slamming his head back and causing him to see stars.

By the time Arthur's vision had cleared, Acrotus had unravelled the cords holding the curtains around the bed back. Arthur made to lunge forward, but an arm across his chest stopped him from going very far and instead pulled him back again. Despite struggling as much as he could against Acrotus, the fact that he was already on the floor put Arthur at a disadvantage and he didn't get very far before his hands were being pulled above his head. Before Arthur could get away, Acrotus had used the cord to lash Arthur's hands to the bed.

"Why are you doing this? You'll never get away with it, all I have to do is yell."

"Then why haven't you?" Acrotus enquired pleasantly, satisfied that Arthur was restrained and moving through the room, tidying things as he did so and sending Arthur what could be considered a fatherly look. "Or could it be that you know I'll take it out on that servant of yours if you think about struggling. He's so trusting, don't you find? He's already believing everything that I am saying…"

"If you hurt him…"

"You'll what? You are in no position to argue, little prince. And you probably don't believe this, but Merlin has talents of his own that I would rather like to get my hands on. Going after him has nothing to do with you, but it does provide a nice little incentive. If you behave, and do exactly as I say, I'll treat him like the servant that he is. You try my patience, Pendragon, and that Merlin of yours will be joining you in the ranks of slavery."

"You'll still never get away with it." Arthur spat, twisting his hands in order to test the bindings holding him still. As a result of it being the bed ties, the rope was gentle around his wrists, and Arthur had the feeling that Acrotus was more trying to make a point than actually tie him up. It was his way of showing that he could do whatever he liked, and right now, Arthur couldn't think of a way of stopping him. Every solution that he could come up with would result in Merlin getting hurt, and considering everything that they had just been through, that was not something that Arthur could allow to happen.

"You see, you're getting the picture." Acrotus had moved forward again now, rolling a piece of material in between his hands, twisting it as he approached. Arthur swallowed hard, trying to push himself backwards, but finding that he had nowhere to go. Acrotus knelt in front of him, twirling the fabric a little more before suddenly shoving it between Arthur's lips and tying it behind his head, effectively gagging him.

"You can probably feel that give it an hour or so, you'll be able to work yourself free. That's what I'm hoping for. Come to my chambers when you get yourself out of these ropes, and maybe we can come up with some sort of deal. For you, I'm afraid there is no question about it, you belong to me now. But maybe if you grovel sweetly enough, Merlin might stand a chance."

Arthur wrenched his head to the side, trying to dislodge the gag so that he could answer back. Acrotus stood up, moving over to the door and watching him struggle with a satisfied expression on his face.

"I always get what I want, Arthur, you should know this by now. Come to me when you are free." With those words, he unlocked the door, slipped out into the corridor and shut it softly behind him again, although he didn't lock it. Arthur knew why, knew that he didn't want anyone to get suspicious about why he would be seen to lock the prince's chambers. As he tugged on his bindings again, Arthur realised that no one would even realise that he was back from the hunt yet, that wouldn't know that he had left the rest of the knights.

Letting out a muffled cry of protest, Arthur yanked himself forward, doing anything he could to try and get free from the ropes. He didn't know what he was going to do when he achieved it, didn't know whether to go to his father or simply do as Acrotus said and go to the man's chambers. Arthur knew that his father would not care if Merlin got caught in the crossfire, and Arthur was more determined than ever that his loyal servant was not going to get harmed, not if Arthur could help it.

For now, however, the next step almost didn't matter. He had to find a way of working himself free from these ropes. With no ability to call out for help, he knew that it was up to him in order to do this. He knew what Acrotus was capable of, and knew that time was of the most essential importance. Every moment the noble had with Merlin was another moment where he could be doing something to the loyal servant. Arthur had to get himself free, _now._

With that thought burnt into his mind, Arthur fought against the ropes holding him prisoner in his own room with more intensity than he had done for a long time, adamant that he was going to get free.


	25. Chapter 25

Merlin had stood uncertainly in Acrotus' chambers as the man claimed that he was going to make sure that Arthur was alright. Merlin had tried to protest, tried to claim that as the man's servant, it was up to him to check on the prince. But the look Acrotus had given him was enough for Merlin to bite his tongue. Not only was he a servant trying to argue back against a noble, he was still also shaking slightly from Arthur's rough behaviour. He knew that when the royal was worried, he would lash out, but never before had he been on the receiving end of it in such a way. It was as if Arthur had been genuinely terrified for Merlin's safety, and judging by their confused attempts at a conversation, it was not because of the rapist that Arthur was worried.

Sighing, Merlin rested his head in his hands as he sunk into a chair, feeling exhausted. He still hadn't yet worked out why Arthur had returned from the hunt on his own. The rest of the Knights knew better than to let the prince out of their sight, and he knew they must be going out of their mind over the fact that Arthur was once again missing. But Merlin knew he couldn't think about them at the moment, he had to work out what it was that had Arthur so terrified. He pressed his palms into his eyes as he tried to work it out, knowing that he wasn't going to have time once Acrotus returned.

Acrotus. Merlin suddenly frowned, his heart giving a thud of alarm. He could just about recall the look on Arthur's face as the knights had taken him from Camelot, the wild look of horror that had been obvious even from the distance that Merlin had been at. Once Bromley had claimed him and immediately began treating him like nothing more than a whore, Merlin had thought that was what had caused the look, especially considering Bromley had said that he knew Arthur of old. But just now, their conversation in the corridor… Arthur had said that he hadn't be referring to Bromely.

Then who?

The roof of his mouth going dry, Merlin slowly lifted his head, staring around the room that he was in. He had found sanctuary in this room after Bromley's attack, but what if his sanctuary was Arthur's hell? What if…What if it hadn't been because of Bromley that Arthur had looked so terrified, but Acrotus? What if they had met before…What if Acrotus was in some way responsible for what had happened back in that place? It would certainly explain how wild Arthur had been out in the corridor, and now that he was thinking about it, the prince's face had gone even paler when he saw Acrotus, and his eyes had been begging Merlin not to go.

Jumping to his feet, Merlin snarled. He had trusted Acrotus, he had believed that the man had been trying to protect him in some way. In a way, he had hoped that because it was trying to protect the servant, it meant that he was a friend of Arthur's, that he would be able to offer the prince the support he so desperately needed right now. Yet all of this time, he was potentially just trying to plan a way to get Arthur back in his grasp… Feeling furious with himself for not realising, for not sensing that something was off, Merlin stared about him.

If Acrotus was truly here in order to do something to Arthur, then there must be some sort of evidence, some equipment or even just chains, everyone knew that Arthur would never go quietly with someone that he hated. The evidence could have been right under his nose this whole time, and Merlin would have never noticed. Fast as he could, he began opening every cupboard door he came across, lifting the lid on the man's trunk and even going as far as pulling the covers back from the bed, searching for anything that would give him the proof that he needed to go to Uther. The king might not have trusted him normally, but he had acknowledged what Merlin had done for Arthur, surely he just had to listen?

But it didn't matter what Uther would do unless Merlin could find something. So far, there had been nothing, no sign whatsoever. Yet now the thought had lodged in his head, Merlin was certain that he was right, adamant that Acrotus somehow responsible for what had been done to Arthur. His eyes fell on a tiny cupboard inset in the wall next to the bed, and feeling the roof of his mouth go dry, Merlin slowly approached. It came as no surprise that it was locked, but that didn't stop the warlock. One thought flickered through his mind and an almighty spark shot from his fingertip. Yet nothing happened, the magic didn't work. Instead, Merlin just felt incredibly light headed and truly thought that he was about to pass out.

He was forced to reach out a hand to steady himself against the bed as he waited for the sensation to pass. With no idea that Acrotus had been drugging him every single time they had eaten or drunk together, Merlin tried to calm the rising panic as he realised that his magic was barely in his control. Now was not the time for it to be acting out, he didn't have time for his powers to become temperamental on him when he had to prove that it was Acrotus behind Arthur's attack. The dizziness passed and Merlin glanced up, only to find a small smile flickering onto his face. His magic might have been acting up, but the door had still opened, a huge burn resting over the hinges of it. Even as Merlin watched, it opened a little further, before falling off and landing on the floor with a bang. His magic was working – just in its own way rather than the way Merlin wanted. Not able to think about himself for now, Merlin took a step forward back towards the cupboard.

For a moment, Merlin just frowned, stretching out his hand and letting it ghost over the bottles that were resting within. But then his eyes widened and he felt as if someone had driven their fist straight into his gut. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have forgotten? He could have stopped all of this the second that Acrotus introduced himself, for that was not the first time that he had heard the man's name. Dunran had mentioned it the very first time that Merlin had met him, claiming that if Arthur hadn't been sold to him, he would have taken the prince for himself.

Acrotus wasn't just involved in this; he had orchestrated it, clearly. It seemed so long ago now since Merlin had first stumbled across the building that had been holding his master prisoner that most of his memories from that time were slightly hazy. He had blocked from his mind most of what had happened, so busy focusing on trying to cure Arthur that he hadn't let himself think about the way that he had found the prince. But ever since Arthur had left on that hunting trip, he _knew_ there had been something stirring in the back of his mind. Bromley's attack had stopped him thinking about it too much, too shaken up to think about Arthur as he believed that the prince had been safe with the knights.

But the danger had just been waiting for him at home instead. Small potion bottles were lining the cupboard, so many crammed into the tight space that Merlin didn't even want to think about what damage they could do if they were used to their true potential. No doubt Acrotus had plans for each and every one, and Merlin stumbled back. Not realising that he was too late, that it was the contents of this cupboard that was making his magic act up, Merlin knew that he had to get out of here. If Acrotus had come for Arthur, not only was the prince in danger, Merlin knew that he too could possibly be a target. After all, he had walked straight into that place, ripped it to pieces and walked out again with Arthur. If Acrotus was the man behind it all, surely he would know something?

Hurrying over to the door, Merlin pulled it open, glancing up and down the corridor as he checked for Acrotus' personal guards. He didn't know whether to be relieved or not when he realised that they were nowhere in sight. Whilst it meant that he could escape the noble's rooms without them stopping him, part of Merlin's mind wondered whether they were with their master and all three were in Arthur's room. Anger caused his magic to spark again, and Merlin found himself ducking as a beam of light shot into the ceiling above his head, causing a crack to appear. Whatever was going on with him, now was not the time to be using magic, clearly. Instead, he made to take a step forward, and froze.

Acrotus was standing barely a few paces from him, an amused look on his face.

"Going somewhere, Merlin?"

"What have you done to Arthur?" Merlin knew that there was no way that the man could have just missed his display of magic. If Acrotus hadn't known beforehand about the servant's power, he did now, and Merlin was going to put that to good use. He had come too far with rescuing Arthur and then trying to get him back on the right track to lose him now, and if he had to use his magic to threaten someone again, then so be it. He was not the same person that he had been when Arthur went missing.

"I know that it was you who poisoned him back there. I know that it was because of you that he almost died, that you had bought him the way that you would buy a piece of cattle at market. Arthur is not a slave, he is the future king and I won't let you hurt him." Acrotus hadn't answered his previous demand, so Merlin tried to make it more obvious just how protective he was feeling right now. He took a step forward, only to feel his arms grabbed from behind. Gritting his teeth as they were pulled behind him, Merlin dived for his magic.

"You don't think that your tricks will work, do you? Have you not noticed how out of control you are, sorcerer? You've been sampling a very special drug for me over the last few days, and I would like to see you try and get my men off you." There was a cold note to Acrotus' voice that Merlin had certainly never heard before, and he realised that the man had been acting for the whole time that he had been in Camelot. But right now, his face had morphed into an expression of fury, yet there was also a sense of smugness. Merlin realised that this was what Acrotus had been waiting for, he wanted someone to know all that he had done, the way that it had been him who was responsible for breaking the Crown Prince of Camelot. Growling at his own stupidity for not realising before, Merlin let lose a stream of power.

Only to gasp and almost drop to his knees if it wasn't for the hands holding him as the magic backfired, another wave of dizziness threatening to overwhelm him as his stomach rolled. Breathing in heavily through his nose, he tried to control himself and therefore didn't notice Acrotus approaching him until a hand grabbed him by the chin, tilting his head up.

"Like I said, I've been drugging you. You're mine, Merlin, and very soon, Arthur will see how under my control you are."

"What have you done to him?" Merlin gasped, his feet scrabbling as he was pulled upright again and dragged back into the room. The dizziness had been worse this time, and his head was still reeling even as his back hit the wall. Realising that his hands were being pulled above his head, he tried to lash out again.

This time, he did lose the contents of his stomach, only just missing Acrotus. Acrotus might have been lying ever since he had arrived in Camelot, but Merlin knew that he had been telling the truth about drugging the warlock. Merlin had never felt like this before, he had never lost control of his magic to such a great extent, and it terrified him. Not only because it left him at Acrotus' mercy as the man's thugs shackled his hands above his head after forcing him back into an upright position, but because it meant that he wouldn't be able to protect Arthur.

Biting the inside of his cheek, Merlin used the pain as a way of forcing himself to focus, trying to get his magic to respond to him rather than being controlled by whatever it is that Acrotus had put into his body.

"I simply gave him a reminder of his place and told him that unless he did exactly as I said, you would be the one to pay the price."

"No…" Merlin moaned, knowing that Arthur was just as protective over him as Merlin was over the prince. He had been Arthur's grounding force whilst he had been trying recover, and he knew that in the prince's mind, that was still true. For Arthur, if something happened to Merlin, he had no way of recovering from it without his servant. For the prince's sake, Merlin had to fight this drug off.

"He's coming here, you'll be able to see him for yourself in a very short space of time. I'm sure that he has recovered enough to be able to untie himself. Actually, no, I don't think you will see him." Merlin frowned, not liking the way that Acrotus was talking as the man gestured to his men again. One moved forward, his large hands wrapping around the side of Merlin's neck and forcing his head straight. Out of the corner of his eye, Merlin could see Acrotus going to the broken cupboard and pulling something out. He moved back into the warlock's vision, and Merlin clamped his mouth shut.

Acrotus chuckled at the act of defiance, but simply nodded again even as he pulled the stopper out of the bottle. The second man pinched Merlin's nose with one hand and prised his jaw down with the other. It didn't matter how much Merlin struggled, with no magic, he could do nothing as Acrotus tipped the contents of the bottle into the warlock's mouth before his henchmen forced Merlin's mouth shut again. The hand holding his nose stayed where it was as the other hand covered his mouth, meaning that he was unable to breathe until he swallowed.

Merlin fought for as long as he could, but even he needed air. One single hot tear rolled down his face as he swallowed, the drug's effect almost immediate. He felt his stomach roll again and he let out a long groan, the man's hand moving away swiftly as he seemed to realise what it might mean. But Merlin had nothing left to bring up, and found that he was fighting consciousness instead. His eyes were rolling and already he could feel the edge of his vision begin to blacken slightly. The hands holding his neck disappeared and his head flopped forwards.

"You won't win." He managed to whisper, startling himself with how weak his voice sounded already. "I'm not the only one protecting him."

"No, but you'd be amazed at how much he cares about you. You got him out of that place, Merlin, never underestimate that. He won't let anything happen to you, for even if it has been months, you are still his lifeline." Merlin mutely shook his head, not having the strength to talk now even if he wanted to. He didn't want Acrotus knowing how true his words were, that Merlin had just been thinking the same thing himself.

"I have you here, Merlin." Acrotus had moved closer now, whispering in the warlock's ear as Merlin struggled to stay awake. "And within a very short space of time, he will know that. All he will see is his servant at my mercy, he doesn't need to know what it is that you can do unless it suits me. I can't have you trying to warn him of anything, trying to talk him out of doing anything rash now, can I?"

"I won't…"

"Shh, Merlin. You've been through quite the ordeal. Just sleep now." The same soothing note that had been in Acrotus' voice as he tried to get Merlin to calm down after the rape was back again, and Merlin struggled weakly, trying to resist. But as Acrotus chuckled slightly, pulling back, the drug had taken hold completely. Merlin sent one last wild attempt at magic spiralling into the room before he lost consciousness, all of his weight hanging from his wrists.

He didn't know that his magic had taken hold of both of Acrotus' thugs and thrown them backwards into the walls, knocking them out. He had no idea that a spiral of it went shooting from the room, flowing through the castle until it reached Arthur. Even as the prince threw himself forward yet again, desperately trying to free himself, the magic wrapped around the cords binding him and caused the threads to start unravelling.

As Arthur struggled yet again, the bindings suddenly snapped and the prince was sent tumbling forward, wrenching the gag free at the same time before leaping unsteadily to his feet.

All Merlin knew, however, was the darkness that had claimed him and the belief that he had somehow failed Arthur after all of this time.


	26. Chapter 26

Arthur didn't hesitate. As soon as he felt the bindings that were holding him to the bed give, he jumped to his feet, tearing away the gag at the same time. He was forced to press a hand against the bedpost for a split second in order to maintain his balance, but determination cleared Arthur's head far quicker than anything else would have done. He looked around the mess he had made of his room, realising that his fears had already started to come true. He had lashed out because he was sure that Merlin was in trouble from Acrotus, that the man would do something to him. Now he knew that was the case.

Crossing the room, Arthur wrenched open his door violently, yet found that he was checking the corridors almost carefully. Neither Acrotus nor his men were in sight, and swallowing, Arthur took a step into the hallway. For the first time in a long while, the burn on his shoulder was hurting again, a mocking reminder that although he might have overcome the pain for a while, he was still branded, he was still marked in the way that Dunran had desired. Even dead, the man was still present in Arthur's life. In a way, he knew that he shouldn't have been surprised that there was no one there to stop him from leaving – Acrotus had wanted Arthur to go to him, after all.

What was troubling the prince more, however, was what the man had said about Merlin. He didn't just want the servant as a way of getting to Arthur, he had wanted him for something else. What on earth could a sadistic, twisted man such as Acrotus want with Merlin? Since the rescue, Arthur couldn't deny that he was seeing his servant in a new light – not only was the man incredibly patient and gentle when he had to be, he also had no qualms about standing up to the king in order to make sure that he could stay by Arthur's side. He also had no concerns about telling Arthur off if he felt that the prince was not helping his own recovery. He had become so much more than a servant, so much more than even a friend. Arthur honestly didn't know what he would do without him right now, not realising that he was confirming Gaius' fears about him becoming too reliant on Merlin.

What Arthur did know, however, was that he was no match for Acrotus. Not if the man's guards were there, he would barely even be able to take a step into the room before he would be overcome and defeated. No, he needed someone who could stand a chance, someone who Acrotus wouldn't dare go against.

He needed his father.

It had been a very long time indeed since that thought had passed over his mind, yet Arthur knew it to be true. All he had to do was accuse Acrotus of sorcery and the man would be arrested. He might not be immediately executed thanks to him being of noble birth, but it would give Arthur enough time in order to get Merlin away. Not to mention that he knew that should he mention Acrotus' name in connection with the hell he had been through, his father's fury would be enough to have any man running cover. His mind made up, Arthur began to head towards the throne room, certain that would be where he would find his father.

It didn't matter how good Arthur thought his plan was, nor how convinced he was that it would be enough to free him from Acrotus once and for all. What he hadn't banked on was the fact that the noble might have been expecting him to take that course of action. Technically, Acrotus had bought Arthur, he had come to get to know him rather well during those months of captivity. He knew that Arthur's only thought would be trying to help Merlin, and that the prince would be able to judge the situation in such a way that he knew that he wouldn't stand a chance on his own. Therefore rather than letting Arthur go to the king, risk everything and possible forfeit his life in the process, Acrotus had just sent his men.

As soon as Merlin had lost consciousness, the man had gestured to his guards and they had silently melted away. Arthur might not have been able to see them when he had checked the corridor, but that was only because they were hidden from view. They had been just around the corner the whole time and as soon as they had heard the prince's door open, they had moved to intercept him. Most of the corridors towards the throne room were main ones, it was a route Arthur walked often and therefore knew well. But there was one passage, one short-cut that he always took where the lighting was not so good and there would be no guards causally walking past on a patrol. Acrotus had been busy during his time in the castle and had managed to find that fact out for himself.

Arthur turned off the main part, his mind racing as to what he was going to say to his father. He knew that he couldn't just go around accusing people with no proof. But as of yet, he didn't have that proof. But he did need his father to act swiftly if he was going to have any chance of saving Merlin. He didn't notice the two shadows almost invisible against the wall until they suddenly peeled themselves away. One blocked the way back to the main corridor whilst the other stopped Arthur from moving any further forward.

"Stand aside." Arthur ordered, eyes glinting in the dim light. He knew precisely who they were, but could only hope that addressing them with the voice of the prince rather than a scared boy would make them think twice about what they were doing. Acrotus had made him suffer for far too long, there was no way Arthur was about to do let the same thing happen to Merlin.

"You're going the wrong way, Sire."

"Get out of my way before I kill you." Arthur snarled, in no mood for mind games. Too long had he spent at the mercy of these people, this was his turn to fight back now. In one fluid movement, he drew his sword, grateful that the thought had entered his head before he had run out of his room in a hurry. The guard in front of him scowled but drew his own weapon, and by the small snick that came from behind him, Arthur knew the second had done the same. Taking a careful step to the side, he made sure that he was no longer in between them. The narrowness of the corridor meant that they wouldn't be able to both attack at once, therefore the fact that it was two against one didn't really matter.

Without warning, both guards lunged at the same time, but Arthur was ready for them. He had been training ever since he was able to hold the weight of a sword again since his release, and now more than ever he was determined to be the best warrior. He wasn't going to be taken like that again, and deciding to put that practice to use, Arthur fought back. He wasn't just acting in a defensive mode, he was pressing the attack. Very slowly, the trio inched back towards the main corridor as blows were traded and they circled each other. But constantly moving, Arthur knew he was making it hard for them to co-ordinate their attack without hitting each other.

"You know the penalty if we fail, right?" Arthur blinked, faltering ever so slightly as the two guards addressed each other. They had always been mocking, cruel even, yet there had been a note in the man's voice then that made him sound almost fearful.

"I'm not going through an experience like that again, I can't take it." The other muttered. The first nodded in agreement.

"I would rather die." They continued to fight even as they spoke, and Arthur found half of his mind trying to work out what they were talking about and the other half making sure that he wasn't the one killed. They shared a long meaningful look and the prince swallowed. He was more than well practised in giving and receiving silent commands and messages, and knew full well they had just agreed on something. Before he could question what – or even try and find a way of bribing them out of coming after him if they were that scared – the man who had first spoken lunged forward. Arthur didn't even have time to step back, didn't have time to do anything…

Yet the man didn't attack. Instead, he simply impaled himself on Arthur's sword, causing the prince to yell out in horror. Whatever it was that Acrotus had over these men, death was a better option. Who had that sort of power? His breathing coming fast, Arthur moved back, but the wall was directly behind him.

It was only then that he realised what they had done. He had no movement in order to pull his sword free, and as the second man swung his own blade, Arthur was forced to let go in order to duck away. By killing himself in that manner, the guard had made sure that Arthur was disarmed. Backing down the corridor, the prince kept a wary eye on the remaining man, knowing that he was at a severe disadvantage. If they were prepared to die in order to avoid failing Acrotus, then nothing he offered him would come anywhere near tempting him to just let Arthur go.

"What does he do to you? I can help…" The prince knew that he had to try though, he was running out of options as the man performed a complex manoeuvre that put him in front of Arthur once again. Unable to go either way down the corridor, Arthur backed up against the wall, eyes looking for a way out. Even as he tensed, preparing to run, the edge of a sword was placed flat across his neck, keeping him still.

"You can help…by coming quietly."

"Never!" Arthur snarled, bringing his knee up and firmly kicking the man. As the guard dropped with a muffled curse, Arthur jumped past him and took off down the corridor, determined to get as far away as possible. This was possible the proof that he needed in order to go to his father, this was what he required in order to get Merlin out. But he never made it to the end of the corridor as his attacker regained his wits far quicker than Arthur anticipated. He didn't even see the man move until a hand caught his ankle and brought him crashing down to the floor.

Although Arthur immediately rolled, the man had moved. In one swift movement, he straddled the prince, resting his sword against his neck once again.

"You don't give up, I'll give you that."

"Let me go!" Arthur yelled, causing the man to instantly place his hand over Arthur's mouth. He leant forward, forcing more of his weight onto Arthur and the prince bucked wildly, panic flooding him as too many bad memories resurfaced at the contact. His fear was clouding his judgement though, and he was so worried about getting the man off him that he didn't feel as he was rolled over, his hands pulled behind his back and tied. It was only when a piece of material was wedged in between his teeth and caused him to choke did Arthur take note of what was going on.

The guard climbed off him, but yanked him to his feet by the back of his collar. Arthur had to scramble in order to make it into an upright position even as he was being pulled down the corridor. He just hoped that the guard didn't know his way around the castle well enough and would try and take one of the main routes. There was no way someone could march the Crown Prince through the corridors like this and get away with it. But yet again, his hopes were dashed as the man pulled back a tapestry. Arthur knew the passageway was there, but he wasn't sure how many others. As he was forced into it – his attacker climbing in after him and letting the cloth fall back into place, he had a feeling that there would be no way out of this. The winding passage came out right by Acrotus' rooms.

Sure enough, the guard was soon glancing around anxiously before shoving Arthur in between his shoulder blades and forcing him into Acrotus' room. It took all of his strength to push Arthur to his knees and hold him there when the prince caught sight of his servant, hanging motionless from the wall.

"Where's the other?"

"There was a complication, Sire. The prince killed him." Arthur let out a muffled protest as Acrotus came into view, the man's hand running a long finger down Arthur's cheek and smirking in satisfaction as he tried to pull away.

"He shall be punished for that. You may go."

"Thank you mi'lord." The man hastily bowed and retreated and Acrotus leant forward, teasing the gag out of Arthur's mouth.

"You had to try and go to your father, didn't you?"

"Let Merlin go."

"No. But I will wake him up, however." Arthur was pulled backwards, the end of the rope binding his hands looped around the table leg and holding him fast. Acrotus pulled out a small bottle from his pocket, walked over to Merlin and proceeded to empty the contents into the boy's mouth. He held his hand over the warlock's mouth and nose as Merlin instinctively swallowed. But Arthur felt his breath catch in his throat as Merlin suddenly yelled, his eyes flying open as he fought against the chains. It was clear that he was in pain, but when he fell still, panting, Arthur was pleased to see that there was the utmost hatred and fury in his eyes.

It seemed Merlin had figured out who Acrotus truly was as well.

"Let him go." Merlin growled, refusing to make eye contact with Arthur.

"Funny, he said the same thing about you. I am truly sorry, Merlin, but he belongs to me now. I can't let him go any more than I can let you go. Arthur is mine."

"Arthur is _mine_!" Merlin yelled, and the prince was sure that he felt something of a breeze stirring the room. He didn't even have time to react to Merlin's sudden possessiveness before the warlock's head fell forward, panting again.

"You know that won't work, I've stopped you."

"No…" This time, Merlin's voice came out as more of a moan, and Arthur knew that his servant was thinking the same thing as him. They were trapped. Like this, neither of them had a way out, and he just hoped that someone would notice that he was missing. But who would think to look here, no one even knew that he was back from the hunt yet.

"What do you want from us?" Despite being on his knees and tied to the table, Arthur still sounded every inch the prince as he glared defiantly up at the man who had made his life hell. Acrotus smirked, walking over and gripping his hair tightly. Tears sprung to Arthur's eyes as his head was wrenched back, but he refused to lower his gaze.

"Merlin over there is a complicated story that you won't understand, so you don't worry your pretty little head about him. But what I want from you? I think you know that, Arthur. You were sold to me, you belong to me. And I want you to start acting like the submissive slave that I know you are rather than this defiant prince." Arthur swallowed hard and tried to shrink back as Acrotus reached into his pocket and pulled out a phial.

"No! No, leave him alone, please." Acrotus looked down at Arthur, almost seeming to raise his eyebrows in amusement before bending down. In one swift movement, he drew his dagger and sliced a corner of Arthur's shirt off before straightening up again. Merlin didn't have time to even think of protesting further before the piece of material was being wedged between his teeth, effectively gagging him.

"Leave him alone." Arthur muttered, his hands twisting in their restraints. He had no idea what Acrotus was planning to do, but he did know what the man was capable of. He couldn't let Merlin be put through that, he simply couldn't. Acrotus scoffed.

"You two really are mirrors of each other, aren't you? No." Merlin let out a muffled protest as Acrotus brought the knife back to Arthur, slicing a shallow cut into his arm without so much as blinking. Arthur jerked back, not so much from the pain but from the realisation he knew what was in the phial that was yet again back in the man's hand. It was the same poison that had effectively killed him when Merlin had first got him out of the prison. Bound or not, it wouldn't matter. He was Acrotus' prisoner – for he knew full well what happened if he didn't receive the antidote.

"Welcome home, little prince." Acrotus snarled, tipping the phial over Arthur's cut and causing the prince's vision to go white as the poison sunk into his system. He didn't even hear Merlin's muffled sounds of anger followed by a snarl of pain as the warlock tried to free himself. The only thing he was aware of was that he was being untied from the table. After that, everything went completely blank for Arthur as the poison yet again dragged him into unconsciousness.


	27. Chapter 27

**I'm sorry this has been so long. Through personal issues that I'm not going to go into, I was unable to write as much as I could and then had the world's worst writer's block. However long between the updates, just know that I will finish this, no matter how long it takes and won't ever abandon it. I can't promise when the next update will be, who knows what life will throw my way next. Just know that it is coming.**

**Thank you.**

Merlin didn't know how guards hadn't come running considering how much he was yelling at Acrotus to stop. It didn't seem to matter that his shouts were muffled by the piece of shirt in his mouth, he knew that he was making enough noise. If someone had been out in the corridor, they would have heard him. It also confirmed his suspicions that Acrotus had only gagged him to stop him from encouraging Arthur to fight back. Considering everything that the prince had been through, he wouldn't necessarily think about the consequences of his actions, more just the desire to get away from the abuse.

Merlin was struggling and pulling at the chains as much as he could, but whatever the sadistic man had forced down his throat seemed to be stopping his magic from working. He could feel it there, beneath the surface, but it was like trying to cup water in his bare hands, it simply trickled away from him. He wrenched at the manacles, almost grunting with the effort as he tried to tear himself free. The rational thought that it was nothing more than a man against chains didn't register in his mind, he just wanted to do something to make it all stop.

The only blessing that he could think of was that Arthur passed out not long after Acrotus began to assault him. The noble snorted before pulling out, pushing Arthur away from him and causing the prince's limp body to fall back against the table. Acrotus turned to face Merlin, his hand striping his own cock now that Arthur was no longer doing it for him, the smirk on his face only faltering slightly as he came.

"What did you think, enjoy the show?" Merlin shook his head, tears pricking at his eyes. He had never felt so helpless in all of his life. He had saved Arthur from Dunran, got him out of that absolute hell hole, only to be forced to watch as the prince was attacked again. Acrotus leaned over, tugging the gag out of Merlin's mouth before returning to Arthur. His fist gripped the prince's hair as he pulled his head up before taking hold of Arthur's chin and turning his head from side to side. He almost looked like he was inspecting the prince, and Merlin had a feeling that he was checking Arthur had only just passed out rather than anything more drastic. In a way, it came as a relief to Merlin as well when Acrotus let Arthur's head drop back down to his chest again before turning to face the warlock. It was a sign enough that Arthur was still alive, and whilst that was the case, Merlin had something to fight for.

"Why are you doing this?" His voice was hoarse from the yelling, but he wasn't sure if it would have come out as anything more than a whisper anyway. He didn't have the strength, not after watching Arthur go through that.

"Did you not see the look in his eye?" Acrotus grinned, moving across the room as he wiped his hand on a rag before throwing it in the fire. When he came to a stop next to Merlin, he ran a finger down the captive warlock's cheek. "Utterly defeated, like he knew his place. His words mean nothing any more, his spirit is broken."

"Arthur will never break to someone like you," Merlin whispered, his voice holding both a promise and a threat. He couldn't accept that that was the act to push Arthur over the edge that they had been struggling so desperately to get him back from. He had to believe that Arthur would carry on fighting, that they would find a way of getting out of this. But at the same time, he knew that everyone reached a breaking point. Arthur was strong, there could be no denying it. But even he could only be pushed so far before snapping.

"Are you sure about that? Anyway, you shouldn't be worrying about your prince, but yourself. You are a powerful tool, Merlin."

"I'm no one's tool." Merlin found that sheer fury was beginning to overcome the desperation from before. He had been angry as he had watched Acrotus violate Arthur, he couldn't deny that. But he had also been scared, scared for his friend and what their tormentor was going to do to him. If he was completely honest, Merlin had been scared for himself as well. He hadn't been this defenceless for a long time, and for it to happen at a time like this..? The fear had clouded his anger, making him scramble for his magic.

This time, however, the fury cut straight through him like a sword. He only just bit back a gasp as he felt the magic rush through his body, flooding his eyes and causing the fire to spit angrily. Acrotus grinned.

"No? Then why do I know precisely how to wield? Few words and I know precisely what to say to get your magic to react. You thought that you couldn't use it before, didn't you, Merlin? Now try and stop yourself."

"What? What are you doing to me?" Merlin knew that he was yelling again, struggling to pull the magic back in. But Acrotus seemed to be right, he couldn't get a grip on his power as it continued to leak from him. His head was spinning and it felt like his blood was boiling.

"It didn't work before because I didn't want it to. Now, however, I'm showing you precisely what a tool you are." Acrotus reached up, unchaining the warlock from the wall. Merlin took a step forward, only for his knees to buckle as his magic continued to flood from him. He hit the floor, groaning as his fingers scrabbled against the wood, trying to find something to grip onto, something to ground him.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Uther's going to want to get Arthur out of Camelot if he doesn't think his precious son is safe there. I have a country estate, one that I would be generous enough to lend to the prince in order for him to recuperate from the tragic betrayal of finding out that his servant, his _friend¸_ was a filthy sorcerer." Acrotus' foot found Merlin's stomach, flipping him over and causing Merlin to land on his back. He was gasping now, sweat running down his face as he tried to pull the magic back in.

"Now you just stay there and leak power like a good little sorcerer whilst I go and get the guards. Won't be long." With those parting words, Acrotus strode from the room. Merlin yelled after him, trying to do something to stop the man, but he was out of control. The fire was burning brighter now, and he knew that it wouldn't take long before the rooms themselves were set ablaze.

Why couldn't he stop himself? How was it that Acrotus had made him lose control so spectacularly? Merlin had a feeling that he was the reason Arthur had been raped again, that Acrotus had known that would be the act to push the warlock over the edge. He had obviously been watching them ever since Merlin had found his prince if he knew this well what to do.

But Merlin knew he couldn't think about that now. He had to get out of here, he had to stop the magic before someone saw and he was dragged off to be executed. He knew that he could escape, but he wouldn't have been able to stay in Camelot. That was where Arthur needed him, he had to be at his prince's side like he always had been. Otherwise all of this would have been for nothing, Acrotus would win.

Yet it was easier said than done. His head was spinning, his breath coming in short and ragged gasps. And that was only from rolling onto his hands and knees in order to try and crawl from the door. Glancing up towards the door, Merlin winced as he caught sight of Arthur, still bound and slumped against the table. His magic seemed to sense his gaze, and the ropes broke with a snap. Rather than falling forward, Merlin could only watch as Arthur seemed to be floated up onto the bed before being gently lowered onto the softness of the mattress.

That fact alone gave Merlin courage. He hadn't told his magic to do that, he wasn't telling it anything, for he couldn't. But it showed him that no matter how much Acrotus goaded him, no matter how much control he thought he had, Merlin would never be able to turn against Arthur. If the man was planning to use the magic as a way of making sure not only that Merlin was killed, but that everyone thought he had been the one to hurt Arthur, he was going the wrong way about it. No sooner had Arthur been lowered onto the bed when Merlin felt yet another burst of magic tear from him.

His head rose to clutch his head as it sent shooting pains through him. But the fire didn't spark, there seemed to be no sign of what had just happened. Gritting his teeth, Merlin forced his head up, leaning back against the wall for support as he tried to make sure there had been no damage. It was only because of the magic that was flowing through him that meant he was able to see the sight that greeted him. No one else would be able to unless they too had magic, but Merlin found that his breath was taken away.

A golden orb had settled over Arthur. Merlin knew without having to think about it that it was a shield of some sort, like the ones he had been constructing around the camps in order to make sure that the prince was safe. But whether it was just because his magic was out of control or because this was different, he didn't feel it draining him in the same way. It was as if the magic was coming from a hidden reserve in him, a desire to protect his destiny no matter what fate was against them. Arthur's breathing had eased, turning steady and deep and Merlin knew that he was asleep. He also knew that Arthur would remain asleep until the magic thought that he was ready to awaken again.

Somehow, that force of magic - especially as it was used to do what it had been created for, protecting Arthur – seemed to take the edge of the burning sensation Merlin could feel running through him. He was able to take a deep breath, able to somehow stumble to his feet without falling over. He could still feel that the magic was being pulled from him, but rather than going in an uncontrollable rush, it seemed to have slowed down to a trickle. Protecting Arthur had taken the ferocity out of it and Merlin stumbled upwards. His hand was resting on the wall and he had to steel himself in order to step away.

His legs threatened to buckle as he stumbled over to the bed. He gave in and let them when he reached it, his upper body cushioned on the blankets even as he fell down. Leaning forward as best he could, Merlin could only watch in wonder as his hand passed through the shield. A warmth settled into the hand, a comforting and soothing feeling, and Merlin could only hope that Arthur was feeling the same thing. Maybe the combination of the sleep and the shield would be what he needed for his body to heal and for his soul to at least rest enough. Merlin knew there was a chance Arthur may never heal from this, but he was going to give his prince every fighting chance he had.

"I promise I won't go far." Merlin whispered, gently tucking the blankets around Arthur to keep him warm. He couldn't go far, he couldn't leave him at Acrotus' mercy. But with the shield in place, he knew that for as long as it lasted, the sadistic man wouldn't be able to touch the prince. His magic was still spilling from him though, he knew that he couldn't stay here. At the end of the day, if Acrotus could persuade Uther of the truth, make him realise that Merlin was a sorcerer, the consequences would be no different than if the king had turned up whilst Merlin was still bound. He had to get away, he had to regain control of himself before anyone else was hurt. After all, Arthur was not the only person here in Camelot that Merlin cared for, and he didn't want to see if his out of control reaction was the same if anyone else was hurt by Acrotus' hand.

Until he got the drug out of his system, he had to get away from Camelot.

"I'll be back." He knew that he was promising himself as much as Arthur, but stumbled for the day. The magic would continue to watch over the prince and help him heal whilst Merlin was gone. How he knew, Merlin wasn't sure. But Acrotus seemed to have just opened a deeper source of magic in the warlock than Merlin knew existed. He found himself wishing that Kilgarrah was still under the castle, but then grinned. That is what he would do. He would go to their usual clearing and summon the dragon. He would be able to help Merlin regain control, he would tell him what needed to be done to not only free Arthur, but to stop Acrotus having such a hold over him as well. His mind made up, Merlin lurched for the door.

He had barely made it out when he heard footsteps. He was sickened by the fact that even Acrotus' own guards had disappeared, it meant the noble had clearly believed that his hold over the two of them was that strong that there was no chance of escape. Wondering what the man would think when he got back to find Merlin gone and Arthur resting, Merlin let a grin cross his lips as he stumbled forward.

He knew that he was never going to be able to get to the end of the corridor in time to be out of sight before whoever it was emerged. Considering the way his magic was acting, his every sense was heightened almost painfully and Merlin knew without seeing that Acrotus wasn't approaching with the guards.

He was coming with Uther.

Just in time, Merlin managed to force his trembling legs to move forward. It took a great deal of stumbling and he almost crashed into the opposite wall, but the long hanging tapestry would hide him for long enough whilst the two men entered the room. His heart was pounding hard as they approached, knowing what Acrotus had planned.

Uther had been worried about his son, not only his abduction, but his subsequent recovery. If he saw Arthur the way Acrotus had left him, bound to the table and clearly having been violated again, with a warlock in the same room, magic pouring from him, Merlin knew that he would have never had made it to an execution. Uther would have killed him there and then, not letting anyone have the chance to explain.

It would mean that Acrotus would have won, yet this time, Merlin wasn't sure if he could blame Uther. It was true that the king's hatred of magic made Merlin's very existence a constant battle. But that wouldn't have necessarily been because of the magic, it would have been because his son had been hurt and Uther believed that he could see the one responsible.

But with Arthur resting peacefully and no warlock to be seen, Merlin knew that he had brought himself some time. After all, Uther didn't appreciate being interrupted for nothing, and he would have been more angry than he would have ever expressed at the possibility they could have disturbed Arthur when his son was finally resting peacefully. Merlin held his breath as they drew closer, but no one so much as glanced in his direction as the two men entered the room.

Forcing himself to wait a beat before moving, Merlin closed his eyes to see if he could regain any control. A crash from further down the hall indicated a vase smashing, and he knew that he was still out of control. As quickly as he could – which wasn't that fast considering his vision was beginning to weave – the warlock set off down the corridor. The sound of guards patrolling had him diving into another alcove and he paused, thinking hard.

He had initially thought of going back to Gaius first, seeing if the old man had any advice or even just grabbing a few supplies before running from the castle. But he didn't have time, he didn't want Acrotus to know who he had been in contact with any more than the man already did in case he took his annoyance at being tricked out on them. It was going to be hard sneaking out in the middle of the day, but Merlin knew he had no choice.

It was time to leave Camelot.

He just hoped the magic kept Arthur asleep until he got back, for both of their sakes.


	28. Chapter 28

"_O drakon, e mala soi ftengometh tesd'hup anankes! Erkheo!"_

Merlin had been summoning the dragon for a few years now. Even more so during the last year when he had been searching for Arthur. The great beast had tried to help, but when it became apparent that Merlin was getting so desperate it was almost borderlining upon abusing his powers, he had firmly told the young warlock only to call him in an emergency.

Merlin couldn't help but feel that now was such a time.

Yet despite the words flowing from his tongue with the same ease that they always had, Merlin skidded to a stop from where he was running into the centre of the field. Doubling over, the young man coughed harshly, his hands resting on his knees as he panted for breathe. By the time he felt as if he could straighten up again, Merlin found himself falling victim to a wave of dizziness, stumbling where he stood. Could the potion have affected every aspect of his magic as well as just the part that enabled him to say spells? He couldn't even be sure whether his summoning would be heard or not, for the blood was pounding fiercely in his ears and Merlin realised his stomach was churning.

He managed to move just in time to throw up in the trees, using the trunk of one as support as he shakily wiped his hand across his forehead, grimacing at the cold sweat that he could feel building there. Whatever Acrotus had done to him was far more serious than Merlin had initially believed, but he still couldn't help but think there was a positive side to the fact that he had just been sick. At least that meant some of it was out of his system now, which could only help speed up the recovery process. Not having the strength to walk back out into the centre of the field, Merlin moved a few paces away and slumped against a tree, his eyes on the sky.

When almost an hour had passed and there was no sign of Kilgharrah, Merlin sighed. It seemed that the potion truly had affected all types of magic. Pushing himself away from the tree, the warlock looked longingly back towards Camelot. Now he didn't know what to do, he had been assuming that Kilgharrah would be the ones with the answers and tell him whether he needed to stay by Arthur's side or not. But until he knew precisely what was happening with his magic, Merlin knew that he couldn't risk it. He couldn't give Acrotus any sort of leverage, and not being able to control himself would be doing just that.

Turning his back on his home, Merlin had just taken a few steps into the forest when an almighty gust of wind almost knocked him from his feet. For the first time in days, he genuinely smiled as the Great Dragon came to land neatly in front of him.

"You have been shielded, young warlock."

"I… what?" It didn't come as any surprise to Merlin that Kilgharrah knew that something was wrong. Especially when it came to magic, he just seemed to have a sense about what it was that Merlin was calling him for. But although he knew that his magic was messing up, the creature's words still took the warlock by surprise.

"What do you mean?"

"I am sorry to have kept you waiting, but I couldn't find you. Am I correct to believe that something has tampered with your magic?" Merlin glumly nodded, hating the fact that Acrotus had been able to overpower and trick him for long enough to result in this. If it hadn't been for Bromley's attack shaking up Merlin more than he was ever going to admit, he might have been more focused, he might have been able to see the madman for who he truly was. But because of that, he was now feeling like he couldn't return to Camelot whilst just praying that a shield he didn't even understand was enough to keep the prince safe.

"It was a drug, I couldn't stop him. I couldn't use my magic at all to start with, and then it went absolutely wild. I didn't hurt anyone, it still seems to be protecting Arthur."

"Of course it is. Protecting the Once and Future King was what your magic was designed for, Merlin. It will never turn against him, not unless someone breaks your spirit completely."

"That's what I'm afraid of happening. The man behind this… he's the one that was responsible for what happened to Arthur. He had him taken, he had him whipped, beaten and raped. Drugged and abused for days whilst I tried to find him, and now he is back. He's here in Camelot, and he has Arthur again."

"You say that your magic is protecting the prince?"

"Yes. No. I don't know, I hope so. It just happened though, I didn't tell it to do anything. Can I be near him?"

"No." Merlin sighed, running a hand through his hair and leaning back on the tree at the blunt response. He had thought as much.

"So what do I do?"

"The fact that your magic is already acting of its own accord despite the drug still being potent is a good sign, young warlock. You just have to give it time, give your magic time to heal. The poison has got to within the very heart of you. I assume that you struggled to call me?"

"I couldn't breathe."

"I thought as much. Like I said, I heard your call, but it was like your presence was shielded from me. I had a general direction, but I didn't know where you are. No part of your magic has been untouched by this."

"But what about Arthur? How was it that I was able to protect him?"

"Because, young warlock, your foe has underestimated you. You are too strong for a mere potion to keep down. The magic went wild because he wished it too, he wanted you to be revealed. Yet you could still chose how to force it to act. It was your wishes that caused it to protect Arthur, your will power that meant you could summon me despite it trying to stop you."

"So what do I do?" Merlin barely realised that he was sounding younger than he had done for years. For so many months now he had just been purely focused on finding Arthur and then helping the prince to recover. But now that was done, and he was potentially the danger to the prince, he simply had no idea how he was supposed to be reacting.

"Nothing. You do nothing. It will take three days for the potion to leave your body."

"_What?!"_

"It should take two weeks, Merlin, but I will give you an enchantment that will help you heal. Until then, if you want to stop my old jailer from taking your head off, you must stay away. Your magic is unpredictable, even the man who administered it will not truly know what the effects are for they vary from person to person."

"I can't just leave Arthur there! This man will do worse than kill him. Please, I have to go back."

"If you were simply going to ignore my warnings, Merlin, why did you summon me?" Merlin bit his lip, staring at the creature. In his heart, he already knew that he would listen to what Kilgharrah was saying, that he would stay away. But he had been desperate to come out here and to be told that everything was going to be fine, that he would be able to stay by Arthur's side straight away with no worries.

Now he just had to face up to his worst fears of leaving Arthur alone with the man who had put him through absolute hell.

"Will my shield hold?"

"I cannot say. But I imagine so, it came instinctively to you rather than being part of any spell. You are not concentrating on it, it is not stealing your strength, therefore you should be able to keep it active." Merlin nodded slowly, taking a small step towards Camelot and gazing up at what he could see of the castle from the field.

"I can't lose him."

"Your destiny does not imply that you will, not like this. Come away with me, Merlin, heal and come back stronger. Or stay here and risk being the one thing that destroys him."

"I would never hurt him, he's my friend. My best friend."

"But you cannot control your magic. Come." Hating what he had to do, Merlin slowly turned on his heel and walked back over to the dragon. He didn't seem to be able to tear his eyes away from the castle, and Kilgharrah was forced to take hold of the back of Merlin's shirt and lift him onto his back, realising that they would have been there all night if he had waited for the warlock to react. Luckily, Merlin had enough sense to grab hold as Kilgharrah rose to his full height.

"I won't be long, Arthur, I promise." Merlin's vow was nothing more than a whisper on the wind, and the dragon knew that he had to get the warlock out of here. With one powerful beat of his wings, he shot into the sky and angled himself towards a distant mountain range. If anyone came looking for the warlock, it would take them days to reach them, and that was presuming they knew of his whereabouts. Either way, it would give Merlin plenty of time to rid himself of the poison running through his body.

Kilgharrah flew for a steady hour, not even attempting to engage the warlock in conversation. He knew that part of the man's mind was back in Camelot, still continuing to watch over his prince the way he had done for all of these months. After all, Kilgharrah knew that it was no accident that meant Merlin had felt some of what Arthur had been going through whilst he was still held prisoner.

Landing at the edge of the cave, Kilgharrah let Merlin slide of his back before tucking his wings into his body. Edging his way in, he blew gently on a small pile of rocks, heating them. It was the equivalent of having a camp fire, and Merlin smiled gratefully at him, crouching down and holding out his hands towards the heat.

"Thank you."

"This enchantment will make things painful for you, Merlin. Are you sure you want to go through with it?"

"It's either that or wait a couple of weeks. Arthur doesn't have a couple of weeks, and has been through more pain than either of us would ever be able to comprehend. I have to get back to his side, I have to make sure that he is safe."

"Very well. You should sit down and make yourself comfortable, I'm not sure how much movement you will have afterwards." Merlin knew that he barely was able to conceal the alarm that shot over his face at the dragon's casual words. But he shrugged off his jacket, curling it up under his head and lying down, body tucked close to the stones. The dragon blinked on large eye at him before seeming to sigh, letting his breath wash over the warlock.

Within just a few minutes, Merlin found that he was drifting off to sleep, the warmth of the rocks and the magic working its way soothingly into his body and forcing him to let down his defence. Maybe Kilgharrah had got it wrong when he said that it would hurt, maybe he just didn't know how a human's body would react to a spell like this. Allowing unconsciousness to flood through him, Merlin relaxed.

Only for his body to start writhing and arching a few moments after that.

A couple more minutes later and the screaming started.

MMM

Arthur was in a strange place. He wasn't quite awake, but he wasn't asleep either. What he couldn't work out, however, was just how safe he was feeling. He hadn't felt like this for a long time, even with being back in Camelot in his own room. But why did he feel like this, he could vividly remember what was happening to him before he had passed out. And Merlin… Merlin had been chained to the wall and forced to watch as Arthur had been violated.

The prince felt the heat rising in his cheeks as his face burned in humiliation. It was bad enough that it had been done to him, but Acrotus had made a point, much as Arthur was loathe to admit it. He could handle it now. He had only passed out because he hadn't fought to stay conscious, knowing that letting the black overtake him would be a sure and easy way for the torment to stop and therefore free Merlin from having to watch it. Arthur just hoped that the maniac hadn't then tried to take his frustrations out on the servant instead.

Try as he might, Arthur simply couldn't get his eyes to open in order to look. But rather than that worrying him, he almost felt relaxed by it. How, Arthur didn't know, but he somehow understood that the feeling of safety was genuine, that nothing was going to be able to touch him.

"Have you found the brat yet?"

"No, Sir." Arthur just hoped that the force keeping his eyes shut also stopped the whimper from slipping past his lips. He knew that voice, there was no way that he had to see the man in order to know that it belonged to Acrotus. After all, it wasn't that long ago when Arthur had been forced to look away, punished if he looked at those beating him. They had given up after a while, realising that the prince wasn't talking and even if he did, he had seen so many people he wouldn't have been able to recognise them all. But Acrotus was almost as recognisable by the sounds that he made as Dunran had been.

Arthur had never before been one to admit when he was scared. But knowing that Acrotus was in the room with him, and that he sounded angry, was enough for the prince to feel nothing short of terrified.

Only one thing gave him hope though.

If he had sounded that furious, and was looking for a "brat", did that mean Merlin had managed to escape? If Merlin wasn't here, Arthur knew that the man wouldn't be able to do anything to touch him. Oh, he could beat him all he liked, but considering the pain that Arthur was used to, he wouldn't feel it. With Merlin gone, it meant that he couldn't be humiliated in the same way, and that was enough for the prince.

He heard footsteps getting closer to what he presumed was a bed and found that he was biting the inside of his cheek to stop him from flinching. Arthur had a feeling that even if he did flinch, no one would be able to see it. The shield (if that was what it was) was peaceful and calming. Arthur didn't feel anything, but he suddenly heard a grunt and a curse.

"I want him found!"

Somehow, Arthur knew that Acrotus had just tried to do something to him. But rather than succeeding, he had been stopped by whatever this force was.

Magic.

There was no other explanation for it.

Arthur couldn't truly relate the feeling of safety he was getting with magic, not after everything else it had done to him, especially the burn on his shoulder. Magic had only ever been used to hurt him, to make sure that he didn't escape either physically or mentally from the torment that he was being put through. So why on earth did he find that he was trusting in the safety of the shield, letting it protect him rather than trying to fight against it? But as Acrotus swore and cursed, Arthur found that he was inwardly smiling.

Whatever this magic was, it was strong. Strong enough that for all his powers and men to do his bidding, Acrotus couldn't get close to him. Allowing the feeling of safety and peace spread through his body once again, Arthur let himself relax back into the bed. He was warm, comfortable and sleepy. But most importantly, he wasn't hurting right now. That had been such a rare thing lately that he immediately decided to make the most of it and let sleep claim him.

But just before he drifted off, and as Acrotus swore again, a thought flickered across Arthur's mind that made him frown in concern.

Merlin was missing.

There was a magical shield over him.

Magic was being used and Acrotus was being stopped.

Yet Merlin was gone.

If someone was protecting him, then why weren't they protecting Merlin as well? Maybe they were and had taken Merlin from the room? But why would they have taken Merlin from the room and left Arthur there, it was obvious who was under the biggest threat from Acrotus considering everything that had happened to him over the last year. Ever so slightly, Arthur managed to shift position on the bed before completely falling asleep with one last troubling thought echoing through his mind.

What if Merlin was gone because of the shield?

What if…

… what if Merlin had been the one to put the shield there in order to protect Arthur whilst he ran? After all, Acrotus had made it quite clear that he had no qualms about killing the warlock. What if that was what the man had meant when he had said that Merlin had his own value.

As Arthur's body completely gave in to the pull of sleep, a single tear trickled from the corner of his eye as he tried to figure out what was going on.


	29. Chapter 29

Merlin didn't regain consciousness for two days. The dragon's magic worked deep within his soul, forcing the poison from his body as Merlin shook and trembled on the cave floor. There was nothing that Kilgharrah could do, he couldn't care for a human that didn't know how to help himself. All he could do was watch and pray that his warlock had the strength to overcome it.

It was growing late on the end of the second day when Merlin's eyes opened. He didn't look to have any recognition of where he was, instead peering blearily about until they fell on the dragon. For a moment, Merlin just stared until he rolled over and promptly threw up everywhere. Kilgharrah gently wrapped his tail around Merlin and moved him, knowing that even from that touch that he was burning up.

"A'thr?"

"In Camelot. He is safe, young warlock, remember?" Merlin seemed to gaze up at the dragon, letting the truth of the words sink in before he groaned again. The creature didn't have time to say anything before Merlin had weakly rested his forehead against his scales, breathing heavily.

"Don't feel so good."

"The poison is leaving your system. You must rest, Merlin. You are entering the final stages, you will have control over your magic by the time that the sun rises." Merlin nodded, sinking down onto the floor but still continuing to listen to Kilgharrah. For his part, the dragon didn't think he had ever seen Merlin so compliant, and that worried him. The warlock would have normally been fighting to get back to Arthur by this point, claiming that he was fine, his prince needed him and that he would somehow manage. For him to just sit here and accept that he needed to wait was a sign indeed that things were not as they seemed.

"I can't feel my magic." Merlin moaned somewhat pathetically as he curled up on the floor, shivering despite the fact that there was sweat beading on his forehead. His eyes were dull and confused and the dragon knew Merlin's sheer power had just proved to be his undoing. Merlin _was_ magic, to have that poisoned was affecting him more than it would affect any other sorcerer.

"Have courage, you will. You know how out of control you were before, this is just your magic pulling itself back in. It will begin to settle, return to its usual levels within the next few hours, you have my word." Merlin nodded, moving closer to the heated rocks and making Kilgharrah wish that there was something more he could do for his young dragonlord. They had a bond, more than just Merlin being able to control him. The warlock had been coming to him for help long before he had the power to demand an answer, and the Great Dragon had found himself responding anyway. He felt connected to the young man.

So when Merlin suddenly bolted up with a cry of alarm barely a few moments later, the creature was worried.

"Is it still active? Just because I can't feel my magic, that doesn't mean it has stopped working, right?"

"I'm afraid that is precisely what it means. It's overcome the poison and returned to a dormant state. The next few hours will be your power increasing again. Merlin, where are you going?" Even as the dragon was talking, Merlin began crawling towards the cave entrance, clearly not trusting his legs enough to be able to walk.

"I have to get to Arthur."

"You are not yet strong enough, and you have no power."

"Exactly! Don't you understand, the man who did this…he's partly responsible for what has been happening to Arthur for all of this time, and he's here in Camelot. He has Arthur, only I think I've somehow been holding him off with a shield. If that shield is gone and he realises, I've failed."

"From what you have said, I don't think that he will kill the prince. You have not failed in your destiny."

"Not my destiny, no. But I promised Arthur that he was going to be safe, that I was going to make sure that nothing happened to him. I've just left him on his own and vulnerable, and Acrotus has Uther's ear. The king could grant permission for anything without truly realising who he is talking to."

"Merlin…"

"Don't you dare tell me to stop. Arthur wasn't just locked away for six months sitting in a comfortable cell. He was abused, tortured, raped and poisoned time and time again. Do you have any idea what it has been like trying to get him back from that, trying to make him the man that he was so that he can fulfil your stupid prophecy. I'm not losing him now, not after we have come this far."

Kilgharrah blinked. Merlin was still on the floor, crawling through the lack of strength to stand. Physically, he was pathetically weak even by human standards. Without his magic, he was completely defenceless. And yet he was just as determined as ever to be by Arthur's side, to make sure that nothing happened to his friend. Kilgharrah didn't know what he had done the first day he had told Merlin that Arthur was his destiny, didn't know the bond that had just been forged as Merlin pulled Arthur away from the flying knife.

But what he did know, however, was that he couldn't ignore such loyalty. Merlin knew that he had no chance of truly saving Arthur, not like this. But he also wasn't just going to sit here when he knew that his friend was in danger. Not just any old danger, however, but something that could completely and utterly destroy Arthur. The dragon couldn't ignore a bond like that, so his tail carefully wrapped around the ailing young man and he lifted Merlin onto his back as gently as possible.

He knew that he was going to have to fly slow, Merlin was in no fit state to be holding on. Hopefully the few hours it took him to get back would be enough for the warlock's magic to once again rise to the surface.

MMM

"Don't look at me like that, Arthur, a few days in the countryside will do you some good. A change of scenery…"

"It's not like I've been in Camelot for long."

"And a chance at some fresh air, it will work wonders. You were becoming too dependent on that boy, you shouldn't have returned early from your hunt. I for one am glad that he has disappeared. It will do you good to go away for a while.

"Father…"

"That's all I have to say on the matter. You are going." Arthur could only stare with wide eyes as the carriage door clicked shut. He had awoken from the magical sleep the day before, as if the thread of power had simply snapped and jolted him back into the land of the living before he truly had time to comprehend what was going on. He had noticed immediately, however, that the feeling of safety that had been settling into him had vanished,

He had run immediately, barricading himself in his own room and making sure that no one could get in. It was working until the king had demanded to speak with him, wanting to know why Arthur had fallen asleep in their guest's chambers rather than his own. Arthur's wide eyed look of confusion was enough to remind the king that his son was still struggling and he had left before Arthur had had the chance to explain precisely who Acrotus was. On attempting to go after the man, however, Arthur had found himself backed into his room by the very man he was trying to reveal.

He had spent the night tied to the floor, Acrotus casually using Arthur's bed with the excuse that the prince had used his. They both knew – Acrotus for sure, Arthur by having a slight suspicion – that it was because of Merlin the prince had been asleep before, but that didn't stop Acrotus from doing as he wanted.

But when Arthur had awoken that morning, however, it was to find that his bindings had been cut and he had been lifted onto the bed. No sooner had he sat up and glanced around, his father had burst into the room. Arthur hadn't liked the look on the man's face from the first moment he had seen it, knowing that it would be bad news. The King had excitedly declared that Acrotus had offered Arthur the use of his country estate whilst the prince recovered from what had happened. Uther had thought that it was a fantastic idea, and in years gone by, Arthur might have leapt at the chance to put his duties aside for a couple of days and get away.

Yet Arthur was not the boy that he had once been.

Acrotus had been standing directly behind the king when Uther had made his announcement, his eyes not leaving Arthur's. As soon as the king was done, he stepped forward and seemed to pull Arthur into a hug.

"Isn't it wonderful?" he exclaimed loudly, pulling the prince closer. "Look over by the door." The second part was a hiss, yet Arthur found that he was doing as he was told. Only to see Acrotus' two guards standing there, just out of earshot. They were both holding onto a struggling Elyan, one man having his hand over the knight's mouth in order to keep him silent whilst the other toyed with a knife in his hand.

"I have them all. Breathe a word to anyone and all of your friends die." Acrotus pulled back, beaming at Arthur before bowing to Uther.

"May we leave immediately, Sire?"

"Of course."

_No!_

It didn't matter what Arthur's mind had been shouting, Uther had simply summoned the servants and ordered them to help Arthur get dressed and to pack up whatever he would need. He didn't hear Acrotus' mutter that he would need nothing, but Arthur did and he shuddered. He had thought about protesting when the servants swept in, but he knew what Acrotus was capable of and was not going to let himself be the reason that any of his men were hurt. Instead, he just stood there unresisting in the middle of his room, forcing them to work hard in order to dress him.

Now, however, Arthur wished that he had struggled more. Acotus had arrived just as they had finished. He dismissed the servants with one wave of his hand before shoving Arthur to his knees. Using his body weight to keep the royal down, he had proceeded to tightly bind Arthur's hands behind his back before hauling him up again. Draping the prince's cloak over his shoulders, Arthur didn't need to see his reflection to know that it didn't look like he was tied. He still hadn't regained much of his former weight, the cloak almost swamped him. Acrotus had marched him down to the carriage, locked him in it and gone to tell the king they were departing. That had been Arthur's one last chance to get his father to listen to him, and now he was just watching as the door snapped shut.

"Let's go, driver." Acrotus called commandingly, reaching out and locking the door. Arthur knew that a simple lock wouldn't be enough to hold him, but it was small details that would cost him time if he tried to make a run for it. Trying not to pay it much attention, Arthur leant back in his seat, his hands twisting in the ropes as he tried to worm his way out of them.

He wasn't given the chance to try for long though. No sooner had the smooth roads of Camelot morphed into the rocky roads of the forest, Arthur found that he was shoved from the seat onto the carriage floor, the rocking motion causing him to almost hit his head as he did so. He barely even had time to regain his wits before Acrotus was on top of him.

The man whipped away his cloak and calmly produced a dagger, cutting away Arthur's shirt before pulling his boots off.

"I bought you as a slave all that time ago, little prince. You were my experiment and my belonging, and now you are going to do as you are told. You are no longer the prince of Camelot, you are no one. A slave without a name. Understood?"

"Get off me!" Arthur bucked upwards, almost causing Acrotus to lose his balance, but then was slammed back down to the floor by a fist connecting with the side of his head. Before he could struggle, a cold iron collar had been clipped around his neck, a short chain running from it to Acrotus' belt.

"Be thankful I'm not dragging you behind the horse."

"You'll never get away with this. Just let me go now and you might still have the chance to run."

"Oh Arthur. I know you better than that. As if you would let me run anywhere. Now hush, slaves who don't hold their tongues lose them."

"You can't do this!" Acrotus sighed, drawing a knife and causing Arthur to flinch back. He cut away a strip of fabric from the cloak before binding it tightly around Arthur's mouth, silencing him.

"This is your last chance." Arthur squirmed as he watched the knife come to rest over his now exposed torso. He still glared defiantly up at Acrotus, however, and the man almost smirked.

"I was hoping that would be your reaction." Arthur's grunt of pain was lost in the gag as Acrotus cut him before pulling out a phial from his pocket.

"I'm sure you recognise this?" Arthur's eyes widened in horror as Acrotus poured the substance over the cut, pushing his hand over it at the same time in order to force the poison into his body. Arthur arched, his eyes rolling backwards as the old flaring pain shot through him. He tried to get up, tried to do something, but it was as if all his strength had simply disappeared and he could do nothing other than collapse into a heap on the carriage floor.

"There's a good boy, that's better, isn't it? Now, I don't think I need to remind you that you can't run. Go longer than twelve hours without the antidote and you'll die. From what I've heard, you almost were killed by it. Interesting how close to the edge one can get and still be saved. I ought to test that out more. Now, onto more pressing matters."

The carriage rocked as Acrotus moved, and Arthur felt a tear slip from the corner of his eye as the maniac continued to strip him. Soon, the only thing that Arthur had on was the collar, gag and ropes binding his wrists in the small of his back.

"You will be bound to my chambers for the first few days, and this will be your attire." Arthur glared as strongly as he could as he felt Acrotus' gaze running over his body. But with the poison coursing through his system, he could barely even focus on the man's face, let alone go for anything that vaguely resembled being threatening. He did, however, feel Acrotus' hand snake through his hair for a moment, forcing him to focus.

What he saw simply made Arthur squeeze his eyes shut as he realised that the noble had undone his laces and was casually stroking himself, watching Arthur's reaction.

"Your training starts now, slave. I must admit that I was almost disappointed at how broken you were when you were due to be handed over to me. This is going to make it far more fun. Then just think, when you drop to your knees, anxious to please me, the second that I walk into the room, we'll have your father come and stay. How does that sound, pet?"

Arthur pushed the flat off his foot against the seat, trying to force himself away from Acrotus as he could get, but there was nowhere for him to go. The man just chuckled, gasping slightly as his hand moved with more intensity before he suddenly stopped. He jerked on the chain and Arthur found himself wrenched up by the collar. He was still trying to regain his breath and work out what was happening when strong hands gripped his upper arms and dragged him from the floor.

Arthur fought back, but there wasn't anything he could truly do as Acrotus moved him to his liking. Arthur found himself kneeling over the man. Acrotus had turned so he was sitting sideways on the seat, causing Arthur's back to be pushed up against the side and therefore stopping him from falling off. Hands slid down his back, sliding in between his arse cheeks and fondling him slightly as Arthur struggled to get away. His struggles seemed to make Acrotus harder and he grabbed Arthur's hips. Without warning, he lifted the young man and slammed him down, impaling him as he did so. Arthur's howl was barely muffled through the gag and Acrotus had a gleam in his eye as he lent forward and licked the tears from Arthur's cheeks, rolling his hips as he did so and forcing Arthur to move.

"Mine." He practically growled, and Arthur let his head drop as Acrotus began taking his pleasure, knowing there would be no way out of this.

As the carriage continued, night just started to fall. Acrotus finally spilled with a grunt as Merlin left the cave. Only by heading to Camelot, the warlock was going in the wrong direction. Little did he know that he was almost returning to the same sight that had greeted him all that time ago.

Arthur would be nowhere to be seen. Even Uther didn't know that Acrotus wasn't returning to his estate, but taking his new prize somewhere else entirely.


	30. Chapter 30

Each step Merlin took left a footprint burnt into the ground beneath him. He knew that he should be being more careful, knew that this was allowing people to literally follow the path he was taking, but he also found that he didn't particularly care. Magic was pouring from every fibre of his being, his eyes having a constant gold tinge to them as he steadily put one foot in front of another.

It had been three days since he had arrived back in Camelot. He had torn through the castle, heading straight towards Arthur's chambers. He had been hoping, desperately praying that just for once, something would have gone right and Arthur would simply be in his rooms, annoyed that Merlin had left but otherwise safe. Even better than that would be if the spell had held and he was still asleep and under the shield, but he knew that was a wish too far. The magic had just begun to come back to him, odd snatches here and there before it was pulled from his control again.

Before he could reach Arthur's chambers, he had bumped into Gwen. How the maid had been able to understand what he had garbled out, Merlin would never know. He was just glad that his old friend had been able to get the gist of what he had said and know that Merlin had been asking after Arthur. The smile that had lit up her face had made Merlin's hopes soar to a level that he didn't think was possible. Until she had asked how he hadn't heard the good news? One of Uther's friends was helping the prince get away from the castle for a bit, giving him some time and space to recover from his ordeal and wasn't it just wonderful? Merlin had known the answer before he had asked the question, but his voice had trembled dramatically as he asked the name of this friend.

As soon as Gwen had said it, his magic had snapped back into place. It was bubbling furiously, demanding to be let lose. Merlin had only just managed to hold it back, knowing that getting himself executed or having to flee from Camelot was not going to help get Arthur back. But even so, he had been unable to stop a strand of it escaping. He knew that Gwen hadn't seen it, but Merlin's eyes saw a golden thread shoot from his chest and swirling down the corridor. That thread would not stop moving until it found the other side of Merlin's coin and there it would anchor itself. It was just one of the things that Merlin had forced himself to learn about when they had got Arthur home and the prince had spent most of his time sleeping. He had vowed that he wasn't going to lose him again, and yet that was precisely what had just happened.

He had made to walk off when Gwen had gently touched his arm, a concerned frown on her face as she asked whether he had seen Elyan. Or Lancelot. Or for that matter, any of the Knights of the Round Table. The dread that had already taken up residence in Merlin's heart since he knew his magic had failed increased tenfold but he hitched a smile on his face and promised that he would find them. Another burst of magic escaped him as he began searching for his friends.

He should have known that Acrotus would have made sure that he had some sort of leverage over Arthur. The prince had been recovering, fighting back almost. There was no way that he was going to let himself be taken by the person who had been responsible for his living hell without kicking up some sort of fuss. But if Acrotus had truly been the one following them the whole way home, then he would know what sort of bond it was that Arthur had with his men. With them at his mercy, Arthur would have gone quietly. Merlin had always admired that trait about the man, but right now, he hated just how noble Arthur could be. It was going to get him killed, if it hadn't already done so.

It hadn't taken long for him to find the knights with the aid of his magic. They had been locked in an old store room, and Merlin hadn't even needed magic to get them out, he had simply pulled back the bolts on the top and bottom of the door. Judging by the mess inside, they had spent the whole time searching for ways to get out. Leon had immediately darted forward, concern in his face as he seemed to realise that something had happened to Arthur again. It was only thanks to Lancelot interfering that stopped the man from demanding answers off Merlin. He seemed to know that Merlin was in no mood to talk, especially not considering the golden tinge that was already beginning to infiltrate the warlock's eyes. The power was almost sparking off him, and it was a miracle that no one else could feel it.

Merlin had simply turned and walked away, despite part of his mind knowing that it was just going to lead to more questions when he got back. If he got back, that was. He couldn't be sure what Acrotus was going to tell Arthur, he had no idea if his secret had been revealed or not. Considering everything that magic had done to Arthur over the last year, Merlin wouldn't even blame him if he tried to kill his friend the second he laid eyes on him.

But first, Merlin knew that he had to find Arthur. Again. There was no way he was going to allow his friend to be put through the type of torture that he knew Acrotus was capable of, not again. He had failed Arthur once before by it taking him so long to find him, Merlin was not going to let that happen again.

As soon as he left the knights, Merlin didn't stop walking. He simply strode forward, out of the castle, out of the gates and then out of Camelot itself. His magic hadn't yet located the prince, but it had enough of a solid direction for Merlin to be confident that he was heading the same way. It was almost as if his magic was trying to make up for the fact that it had been tricked and contained and was now back stronger than ever to make sure that it didn't fail Arthur again.

Merlin had no sense of time passing as he had walked. He had no idea he had been going for three days now, not stopping to rest or eat. His magic was fuelling him, his mind focused only on finding Arthur and nothing else. He had no idea about the dark clouds that were rumbling overhead as nature reacted to the sheer power that was pouring from every fibre of his being. If Merlin brushed against a branch, it snapped with a hiss, the bark burnt. His footsteps were scorching the ground and the very air surrounding him seemed to almost hum and vibrate with the power.

It had only been in the last hour that Merlin had truly felt like he knew where he was going. He was just hoping that it meant his magic had found Arthur and latched onto him. Once that happened, it didn't matter where Arthur was taken, Merlin would be following. It had been a surprise when he had realised that he was travelling in the opposite direction of where he knew Acrotus' estate to be, but he had swiftly stopped dwelling on it. As if Acrotus was going to take Arthur to a place Uther knew, especially not if he knew there was a risk word would get back to the king that something hadn't been right about his offer to help Arthur.

But every step that Merlin was taking now was taking him closer to where he knew Arthur would be. Every step made the magic crackle with more intensity, every second passing made the thoughts in his head that little bit darker about what he was going to do when he caught up with Acrotus. There was no way that the man would be allowed to live this time, Merlin simply would not take the chance.

Even as the magic demanded retribution, a small part of Merlin's mind knew that he had to think rationally. If he acted out the way he was thinking now, he knew that he would lose Arthur even more efficiently than anything Acrotus might have done to him. If he destroyed Acrotus in the way he wanted, Arthur would have to kill him in return, there would be no other way to bring him back from the darkness beginning to caress his soul.

He had to save Arthur, there was no question about that. But somehow, Merlin knew that he had to be able to keep a hold of himself in the process, or the man would have effectively won.

MMM

Arthur just about held back a grunt as Acrotus finally pulled out of him, the man's shirt catching on the bloodied wounds across Arthur's back. He didn't flinch, he didn't so much as twist his head as he heard his tormentor catch his breath and begin to make himself decent again. Instead, he just opted for staring at the wall in front of him, eyes blazing with anger and frustration over the fact that he was once again helpless.

His hands were tied above his head, lashed on to the top corner of a frame that Acrotus had set up. It was an "A" shape, Arthur's hands lashed to the top and both ankles secured to an opposite corner. He was barely even touching the floor, most of his weight hanging from his wrists. There was a bar at chest level, and a long bruise across Arthur's chest from where he had been constantly pressed into it. The collar was still around his neck, the short chain clipped firmly around the bar and causing Arthur's head to be constantly craning forward. There was a gag resting around his neck, hiding the collar from view, but before Arthur could think of saying something, Acrotus had tugged it back into place.

Arthur attempted to twist his head away as Acrotus gagged him, but like every effort he had made before, it was futile. He wasn't sure how long it had been, only a couple of days at most but already feeling like a lifetime. He had been tied to the post when they had first got here, and all other escape attempts had been driven from him as Acrotus had him flogged. They had kept going until he had finally passed out, and Arthur had awoken to find himself shackled in a dungeon with his back burning and throbbing even as blood ran down. The beginnings of a fever had just begun to set in when a few guards had turned up and dragged him out again. His hands had been bound behind his back as he had been marched along before forced to his knees in front of Acrotus.

Arthur had managed to stare stonily ahead, not looking at the man as Acrotus had attempted to goad him. Arthur refused to be baited, he refused to break again. He knew that he might have to bend slightly in order to survive, but he was not going to break. He had been through months of hell, months of being abused, poisoned and tortured. Whatever Acrotus could throw at him in a few days would be nothing in comparison. Even when Acrotus had ordered his guards to have their way with him, Arthur hadn't resisted. Instead, he had let his mind drift and thought of his friends even as the guards took both his mouth and his arse at the same time, rocking him between them.

That had been the day before at the very least. He had spent the night back in the dungeons, absolutely shattered after spending most of the day being passed around the guards. Acrotus had over seen the whole thing, pausing them just long enough to administer both the antidote from the day before and the next batch of poison. They had come for him that morning – at least, Arthur assumed it was morning, he had no true way of telling the time – but rather than being forced to his knees again, he had instead been tied back to the frame.

Acrotus seemed to realise that whipping him again would kill him. So instead, he simply moved the lashings further down Arthur's body, and even now the prince could feel his legs trembling violently as blood ran down them. He knew it was only because they were tied that stopped him them from giving way completely. At least being tied like this, he couldn't accidentally drop to his knees. He refused to go down on his own accord, even if it was through collapsing. Acrotus was _not_ going to break him this time, Arthur knew that he just had to bide his time.

The handle of the whip caressing his chin made Arthur start, dragging him back into reality and making him feel just how much he was hurting again. Rather than letting Acrotus see the pain in his eyes, Arthur opted for staring stonily at the wall ahead. With his neck chained, Arthur knew that he would have to look up to his captor, and it didn't matter what Acrotus did to him, the prince refused. Merlin and the knights would come for him. They had spent months searching for him and then helping him recover, there was no way that they were just going to let this happen. But it also meant that Arthur refused to be that helpless again. He might need their help, but he refused to need them in the way he had before. He was a prince, and it was about time Acrotus realised that he was messing with the wrong person.

"I'm so glad that I let you recover before I came to take you again, this defiance is really quite delicious, you know." Arthur shot Acrotus a withering glare, but didn't even attempt an answer around the gag. At least this way, he couldn't say anything that would give away how he was feeling, his mouth couldn't betray the sheer agony that his body was going through.

"But you'll be mine soon enough. I have plans for you, Arthur. Plans to invite your dear father to come and stay. By the time he arrives, you'll be a slave at my feet, your only thought being how to please me. You'll sit under the table, you'll service me even as I dine with your father. I'll ask him if he wants some pleasure, and of course he'll agree. You'll then suck him too, and he'll never know it is his own son until he has come down your throat, claiming how he has never had pleasure like it. You're addictive, you know."

The whip handle was forced under his chin, turning Arthur's head even from where he was doing everything he could to turn away, nausea rising through his stomach at Acrotus' words. He swallowed hard, trying to keep the bile at bay. He would not be seen as weak, no matter what Acrotus said. He just had to find a way to not listen, but it was hard when Acrotus exerted more pressure on the whip, causing the handle and the collar to battle for dominance over where Arthur's head should be. He could feel sweat beading on his forehead from the unnatural strain on his neck and he knew that he wouldn't be able to hold this position for long until something gave him away. Acrotus' eyes were glinting with an insanity that Arthur couldn't believe the people back in Camelot hadn't noticed.

"No wonder Dunran kept coming back for more." Arthur wasn't able to hide his shudder in time at the mention of the man who was responsible for him breaking the first time. It wasn't necessarily what he had done, but the way he had constantly done it. Acrotus chuckled, finally lowering the whip but taking Arthur's chin in his hand.

"There is something so pure and good about you. You know some think it is your destiny to be the greatest king that has ever lived? Imagine what they'll think when they find out you are nothing more than a common whore."

Arthur gritted his teeth, anger pulsing through him. Out of the corner of his eye – for he was still refusing to look directly at Acrotus – he could see the man smirking. Somehow he knew he was giving the twisted man what he wanted. Acrotus wanted his anger, he wanted him to be fighting for they both knew the rules – those who fought the hardest shatter the most.

"A delicious whore at that. Once your father has had you, we'll reveal who you are, watch the disgust and shame cross his face as he realises what a whore his son is if he can even pleasure his own father. Then I'll make an offer he'll be revolted at. But out of sight, he'll start to think about it. And before his visit is done, you'll be sent to his bed. You'll no longer be his son, just another nameless slave who is a good fuck. My whole household will be able to testify that."

Arthur knew that he was trembling in fury now. Acrotus chuckled, one hand stretching out. Arthur knew he was about to take the gag out so that he could hear Arthur's fury, but the prince knew he couldn't just do nothing. As Acrotus' finger slipped in his mouth, Arthur bit down as hard as he could.

He would not break.


End file.
